Where Paths Cross
by Fish01
Summary: While hiding from Dudley and his gang, eight-year-old Harry crosses paths with someone who is just as starved for love as he is. Orphaned while in her teens, Bethany Richman is struggling to break free of her loneliness while trying to make it as a young adult. And where does Sirius Black fit into this?
1. Hiding in the Bushes

**Chapter 1: Hiding in the Bushes**

_Saturday, 8__th__ October 1988_

Twenty-two year old Beth Richman blew an errant strand of ebony hair away from her face as she trudged along Magnolia Crescent favouring her left ankle. Her bags of groceries bumped against her legs with each uneven step.

She was furious.

The Dursley boy had almost knocked her into a ditch on his expensive bicycle. While dodging out of his way, she had twisted her ankle and fallen on her shopping, completely flattening her loaf of bread and breaking half a dozen eggs. He didn't even call an apology or act the least bit sorry. No, the fat pig merely smirked at her as he sailed past, acting as if he were a king. A fat, ugly, tyrant of a king.

"Second time this month he's almost run into me," she muttered angrily to herself. "Hooligan deserves to be locked up somewhere - oh no!"

She had been so wrapped up in her fury that she failed to notice one of her plastic shopping bags had begun to split until it was too late. With a sigh, she placed her other three bags on the ground and began picking up the fallen items.

She was not usually one given to tears, but today seemed to be a never-ending barrage of events that tested that characteristic. Her morning shift at the Little Whinging Hospital had been trying enough dealing with two screaming children refusing to take their medication while their parents stood calmly by watching their offspring throw tantrums and try to throw things at her. On top of that, her brother had just informed her of his plans to move interstate for work, leaving her alone. Their parents had been killed in a gas explosion seven years ago; Dan had been running ever since, flitting from job to job, always restless, never content to settle down for long. She had never thought her older brother, her protector, would leave his only remaining relative for a work opportunity. They had been close growing up, but their parents' untimely death had wrought a change in him, making him distant and unresponsive to her efforts to reach out to him.

A quiet voice broke into her thoughts. "Do you need any help, miss?"

She started and looked up quickly, having thought she was alone. A small boy with wire-rimmed glasses and messy black hair was gazing at her curiously as he crawled out from a thick mass of shrubbery. The opening between the branches was only about a foot in diameter but he wiggled out with ease, standing up and dusting himself off as it were an everyday occurrence.

It was difficult to guess his age; his thin frame was accented by worn and baggy clothing that had seen better days. There was a large rip at the left knee of his jeans and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled back multiple times. Overall his appearance was rather scruffy. Everything about him, from his scrawny build to his overly large clothes, screamed about neglect.

It crossed her mind that he was probably a homeless kid wanting a chance to beg for or steal the food that filled her bags and littered the sidewalk. As quickly as this occurred to her, she dismissed it. There was something about him that she was drawn to. Despite his outward appearance, there was no mistaking that this boy was a fighter; it showed in his expressive eyes. The brilliant green captivated her. His eyes fairly shone with intelligence and compassion, yet with an underlying seriousness that a child his age shouldn't have.

Momentarily tongue-tied, she merely gaped at him before remembering her manners. "Uh… yes, I'd appreciate it."

The boy knelt beside her and gathered the items in his arms. After checking that they'd fit, he placed a few of the articles in the bags with the rest of her shopping. Those that didn't fit, he handed to her before rising to his feet. "Would you like me to help carry this to your house?"

Beth smiled at him. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. My house is just around the corner. It won't take me long to get there."

"Are you sure you don't need help? You're hurt. I saw you limping. I really don't mind." His eyes seemed to see into her very soul; they were filled with genuine concern.

"I guess I could do with the help after all," she relented. "My mother always said I was too stubborn for my own good." She added ruefully.

He picked up two of the three bags and they began walking toward the corner. "I'm Bethany Richman, by the way."

"Harry Potter."

She smiled warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. What brings you outside on a hot day like today? And why were you hiding under the bushes?"

Harry bit his lip. "Just exploring." By his tone, she could tell there was more to it that he wasn't saying.

"Do you live near here, then?"

Shooting a sideways look at her, he seemed to be sizing her up, debating how much to tell her. She felt relief that he was careful around strangers; there was something about this boy that aroused her mothering instincts, or the little she had at her young age. Obviously deciding that her petite build and unimpressive height of just over 5 feet offered no threat, he answered her question. "Yes, on Privet Drive."

Her brow crinkled in thought as she tried to place the familiar sounding street. "Isn't that where the Dursley boy lives? He must be a royal pain to have as a neighbour."

"You mean Dudley? He's my cousin."

Ouch. It wasn't her day for tact.

"Yeah, that's the one. Sorry, I didn't realise he was your cousin."

"It's alright. He is a royal pain." He smiled at her shyly before admitting, "That's why I'm out here. Dudley has his friends over. They were chasing me so they could beat me up. That's why I was hiding."

She was taken aback. "Oh." It wasn't the answer she was expecting, but at least the boy was honest. Pulling herself together, she managed a slightly more meaningful response. "That's not very nice of them. Do they hurt you often?"

He shrugged. "They can't usually catch me, I'm a fast runner and I know good hiding places."

"I see." Mentally she cringed at her shallow replies. "So these boys beat up a six year old –?"

"I'm eight."

"Oh… sorry. " _Good going, Beth_, she inwardly scolded. Aloud, she asked him, "Are you visiting with your parents?"

He scuffed the toe of a tatty sneaker on the sidewalk. "No, my parents are dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Definitely not her day. Maybe she should just stop talking before she upset him further. She had almost no experience with children and it showed… badly. Beth was saved from trying to come up with something intelligent to say when they rounded the corner and her house came into view.

Harry's eyes lit up. "Oh, wow! Is that your house?"

Beth laughed at his incredulous expression. "Yes, it is."

Aloe Court was a small key-shaped cul-de-sac that consisted of just three houses with hers in the middle. Her street was on the border of Little Whinging so her backyard adjoined a vast woodland where the more rural suburbs began. Pushing open the front gate, she led him along the path toward her door. The dense front garden with its numerous winding paths had earned many exclamations of delight from passersby, particularly young children.

"When I was a child I used to dream of having a jungle in my own yard. Even as an adult, I still love the idea." Beth chuckled. "It drives my neighbours mad. They think it's too untidy."

"It's brilliant." Harry was turning on the spot to take everything in, his eyes almost bursting in his attempt to memorise every detail down to the last leaf. It was a comical sight.

"Thank you. Why don't we put these bags inside and I'll find us some cookies and milk to enjoy out here." When he started to protest, she held up a hand. "You've been a great help, Harry. I want to do something for you in return."

He nodded and followed her into the house, stealing another glance out the door at the garden. Beth deposited her burdens on the kitchen counter and gestured for Harry to do the same. Quickly searching her childhood memories for the snacks her mother used to make, Beth seized at the recollection of having cookies and milk after school. Chocolate milk was a sure-fire guarantee to satisfy a child. Maybe kids weren't so hard to entertain after all. She could do this.

"Now, I'm pretty sure I still have some chocolate milk. Would you like some?"

Harry nodded slowly.

Beth glanced over her shoulder at him while she fossicked in the fridge. "What's up? Anyone would think you've never had it before."

"I haven't."

"Really?" She was astounded, and secretly dismayed that her idea had flopped already. Well, not flopped exactly, he could still try it. "I thought every kid has had chocolate milk." She set the cartoon on the counter and retrieved two glasses from a cupboard, praying the kid wasn't lactose intolerant. Now that would be a disaster. What else did kids drink besides chocolate milk? She could hardly offer him something boring like water. "Well, we'd better remedy that. Could you bring that cookie tin over here, please?"

Together, they placed the food items on a tray and walked back outside. Beth turned onto a path that led to a polished wooden outdoor setting. Setting the tray on the table, she dragged a chair in front of her own and propped up her leg. "Ah, that's better." She rested a wrapped icepack on her aching ankle and closed her eyes. "Have a cookie, some milk and a chair. Not necessarily in that order."

Harry obediently took a seat. "Do you live here by yourself?"

Beth opened one eye to look at her guest. "Yep, just me. Unless you count my mice."

He nibbled on a cookie. "You have pet mice?'

"Not exactly. They don't have permission to be in my house, but I can't bring myself to poison them. I've even named them. My brother thinks I'm mad."

"My aunt can't stand mice. She'd have a fit if any were in her house." Harry grinned.

Beth chuckled, warming up to the boy. "Personally, I think they're rather cute. I just need to convince them to stop leaving little presents on my carpet." She reached for another cookie. "How's the chocolate milk?"

"It's delicious! I've never tasted anything like it!"

Beth couldn't help but feel enormously satisfied at her astonishing child-minding skills… that she had discovered about 5 minutes ago while improvising every step of the way. "Excellent! My brother and I loved it as kids. My father used to joke that we'd deplete the world's supply of chocolate milk by the time we reached adulthood. Obviously someone managed to scrape together a few more litres."

They talked for another hour before a persistent beeping interrupted them, making Harry jump.

"Oh, sorry. That's work calling me. I have to go now." She stood and tested her ankle, taking a few experimental steps. "Feel free to come by for a chat again. I'd love some company other than TJ and Millie." She winked at him. "I'll keep the fridge well-stocked with chocolate milk."


	2. Friends to Family

**Chapter 2: Friends to Family**

Over the next year, Beth and Harry grew closer. She readily provided him with sanctuary from Dudley's gang, nursed his grazed knees and scraped hands, sympathised over his lack of friends (Dudley chased everyone off), and comforted him when he was dejected from the bullying at school. He even confided in her about the odd things that happened around him, such as how he had mysteriously turned a teacher's wig blue and regrown his own hair overnight. Beth agreed with him that it was rather odd, but wasn't able to provide an explanation for it. She didn't try to convince him that he was imagining things, for which Harry was grateful. In fact, she listened with patient amusement whenever he recounted the most recent of what they came to call 'Harry moments'.

He eagerly anticipated each visit to her house, where they would do a range of things from watching movies and baking cookies, to exploring the walking trails that adjoined her backyard. She had passed on her love of nature to him; they spent many hours hiking through the thicket, sometimes packing a picnic lunch to eat by the stream, or to attempt to learn animal tracking from an ancient book of questionable origin. No matter what they did, Beth always managed to bring a smile to his face with her unique imagination and quick wit, not to mention her penchant for finding the oddest assortment of sick and injured animals to doctor. More than anything, he valued the fact that she always treated him with respect, even if she was tired or upset.

For the first time in memory, someone cared about him.

* * *

_Tuesday, 19__th__ December 1989_

Knocking smartly on the door of Number Four, Beth took a step back to wait, clinging tightly to the Christmas present she had bought for Harry. A few minutes passed before the door was opened by a horse-faced woman with a sour expression.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Dursley," Beth began in her most charming voice. "My name is Beth Richman. I live over on Aloe Court. I'm here to see Harry."

"To see Harry?" Petunia narrowed her eyes, as if asking to see Harry was an unspeakable crime.

Beth quickly pressed on. "I have a gift to… to thank him for helping with some yard work last week." She hoped it sounded believable.

The older woman reached out a hand. "I'll give it to him."

"I'd like to give it to him myself so I can thank him in person," Beth explained patiently, still grinning widely – perhaps a little too much so; Harry's aunt looked rather disconcerted – maybe that was just her natural expression. "Is he home?"

"He's sleeping." Came the terse response.

"Sleeping?" That didn't seem right. Harry spent as much time as possible outdoors. "In the middle of the afternoon during the Christmas holidays? I would have thought a boy of his age would be climbing trees or playing in the snow."

"Well, he's –"

Beth suddenly caught sight of movement over Petunia's shoulder. "Harry? Did you just come out of that cupboard?"

Obviously surprised to see her standing at the doorstep, Harry shot a glance toward his aunt. "Um…"

Recovering quickly, Petunia turned back to Beth. "He was putting something away."

"But you just said he was sleeping."

Petunia pursed her lips in annoyance. "Well, apparently he woke up." She snapped. Grudgingly stepping aside to permit her entry, she added. "You can talk to him in the living room. You have ten minutes."

Beth had a childish impulse to stick her tongue out at the woman's retreating back, but managed to quell the urge. _You're supposed to be a mature adult, Beth. Remember that, _she reprimanded herself as Harry wordlessly showed her to the living room.

Shooting a cautious glance toward the kitchen, Beth smiled at Harry and handed him the present. "Merry Christmas!"

Harry goggled at her. "Is that for me?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, Harry. For you." She gave him a hug. "What do you say we celebrate Christmas together this year? Come by whenever you can sneak away for a few hours and we'll have a real Christmas. As a family."

He smiled and hugged her, "As a family." He repeated sounding both awestruck and delighted.

* * *

_Sunday, 24__th__ December 1989_

It looks a bit lopsided, Harry."

From his position near top of the stepladder, Harry tilted his head to study the Christmas tree more critically. "You've said that four times. It's fine."

"It's leaning too far to the right." Beth said, glaring at the star as if the object was intentionally being stubborn just to be spiteful.

Humouring her, Harry reached out and tapped the star so it moved an infinitesimal fraction to the right. "How about now?"

"Perfect." Beth beamed at the fully trimmed Christmas tree. It was almost groaning with all the tinsel, lights, candy canes and assorted decorations she had insisted on adorning it with. She leant down to pick up her pet ferret as he scurried past. "Hey Sidney, you're just in time to see the tree."

Sidney looked far from impressed. Harry thought the ferret had already had more than his fill of the Christmas season; he had been forced to endure a bath and grooming that morning, only to have Beth tie a huge red ribbon loosely around his neck at the end of it, saying it made the ferret look 'sweet'. Harry privately felt Sydney looked ridiculous but didn't think it polite to point out. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. He had long since learned that there was no stopping Beth when she got started on a project, particularly one involving Christmas or a birthday.

The tree wasn't the only thing that had been generously decorated. Tinsel lined every window and wreaths hung on the front and back doors; multi-coloured lights glowed from the front verandah; Christmas cards were distributed on every table, cupboard and shelf; ribbons wrapped around the stair railings and there were sequins and glitter sprinkled on the tabletop. Wrapping paper, sticky tape and coloured pencils littered the living room floor. The mess was enough to make Aunt Petunia faint; however, as Harry watched Beth, she glanced around contentedly at the borderline bombsite.

"We need more glitter." Beth declared decisively, moving toward the dresser she had dubbed the 'Everything-But-The-Kitchen-Sink-Cupboard which literally contained just that.

Harry grinned. "Need help finding it? There's a lot of junk in there."

"No need," Beth emerged from the cupboard with four tubes of glitter in red, green, blue and gold.

Looking around, Harry spoke up, "Beth, you've run out of flat surfaces."

She merely smiled mischievously. "Oh, these are for something else." She deposited three of the tubes on the table so she could open the fourth. "When I was growing up, my family had a sacred tradition – which incidentally was started by me, as the youngest."

He patiently watched as Beth tipped the glitter into a bowl. She put her hand in to gather a handful and then, before he could so much as blink, she had thrown it at him.

"Glitter fight!" she yelled, scooping up a second and third handful.

Covered in gold glitter, Harry blinked at her. "_That's_ your sacred family tradition?"

She shrugged, chocolate-brown eyes shining with mirth. "What can I say? I was a rambunctious child."

* * *

_Friday, 6__th__ April 1990_

"I think we're lost, Beth." Harry said as he turned in a slow circle, scanning the mass of towering trees and dense brush for landmarks.

"No, we're not."

"That pile of rocks look familiar."

"Harry, all of the rocks in this place look the same."

"I've seen that same leaning tree five times this afternoon."

"It's your imagination."

"Shouldn't we be heading back? You always tell me to be indoors before it gets dark."

"We are going home, we're just –"

"Lost?" Harry offered.

"– following the scenic route." Beth finished firmly, frowning at a group of young trees that barely reached her shoulder. "Those trees should be bigger. What's the good of landmarks if they change on you?"

Harry flashed a cheeky grin. "Well, since we're obviously lost, we can stay here for ten years or so while they grow. Then they'll look like the landmark you want and we can go home."

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Beth said as she continued to stare mutinously at the offending trees as if she could terrorise them into becoming those she was looking for. "I could have sworn that was the right trail."

"Meaning we took the wrong trail and really _are_ lost."

"You really do have some sort of obsession with that word today." Picking a path at random she pasted on a confident expression that completely belied her true feelings. "It's that way, come on."

Looking somewhat sceptical, Harry followed. "You know," he commented, " we could just climb that hill over there to locate the position of the sun. Your house is somewhere East of us, isn't it?"

Beth stopped in her tracks. "It's more south-east, but that is a brilliant idea. Oh, Beth, where did you leave your common sense?"

"At home with your sense of direction." Harry quipped.

She poked him in the ribs. "Where you'll be left next time if you don't cut that out."

* * *

_Monday, 11__th__ June 1990_

Harry sat at Beth's kitchen table as she bandaged his bleeding hand. During one of Aunt Marge's rare visits to Privet Drive, two of her dogs had attacked him.

"So, all in all, you aren't much of a dog person?" Beth commented wryly.

Harry flinched when she secured the ends of the bandage. "I don't mind most dogs. It's just that Aunt Marge's don't like me."

"They deserve to be shot if you ask me." Beth muttered as she returned her first aid kit to its place above the fridge.

"The dogs or my relatives?"

"Both," Beth answered decisively. "Your relatives _did_ make you spend most the night in the tree. I have half a mind to go give your uncle a piece of my mind!" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Grape or cherry?" She asked suddenly, holding out some lollypops.

Harry was used to her tendency to leap from subject to subject and had no trouble switching without missing a beat. "Beth, I'm too old for that. I can survive a dog bite without being distracted by sweets."

"Rubbish. Research proves that injuries heal faster with the help of sugar."

Giving in to her eccentricity, Harry took the cherry flavoured lolly. "Whose research? Your own?"

Beth grinned in satisfaction. "Naturally. I'm a qualified nurse; my word on medical matters is law."

"You didn't give me a lollypop last time I was hurt."

"It's a fairly recent phenomenon." She unwrapped the remaining lollypop and stuck it in her mouth. When Harry opened his mouth to point out she wasn't injured, she hastily added, "It also prevents a wide variety of illnesses and injuries." Harry was still trying to hide his grin when she abruptly changed the subject again. "So, how did precious Diddy's birthday go?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry recounted the fiasco. "Every time I reached for a piece of party food, Dudley snatched it up. He ended up being sick from eating five times his share." He shook his head. "It's sad to see him go to so much trouble to try make me miserable."

"That pig. How many presents was it this time?"

"Thirty-two."

"I bet you a paperclip that number doubles by next year."

"A paperclip?" asked Harry in bewilderment.

"A _blue_ paperclip," grinned Beth as if that factor made it equal to a solid gold bar.

"Alright," said Harry. "But if you lose I want two blue paperclips."

Beth tilted her head as if deep in thought. "Deal. Sheesh, you drive a hard bargain, kid."

* * *

_Tuesday, 31__st__ July 1990_

Harry stared at Beth in astonishment as she re-entered the room balancing a cake generously decorated with assorted sweets.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" She set the cake on the table in front of him and sunk into a chair. "Well, what are you waiting for? Make a wish and blow out the candles."

He stared at the cake in wonder. "I've never had a real party before. Thank you."

"They never even gave you a birthday party?"

"No."

"Then I'm honoured to be giving you your first. But surely they at least acknowledged it?"

"No, they usually ignored it completely… although sometimes they'd give me presents… if you can call a coat hanger a present."

Beth's face darkened and she muttered something unintelligible under her breath before pasting a smile on her face. The change happened so fast it was almost disconcerting. She reached under her chair and produced a brightly wrapped present. Waving it in front of his nose teasingly, she grinned at him. "Wish first, then you can have the present."

Harry returned her smile before turning his attention to the cake. Making his wish, he blew out the candles and accepted the present. Unwrapping it slowly, to savour the feeling of opening his first present. When the wrapping fell away he looked up at Beth dumbfounded.

"Is this –?"

"Yes, it's a spare key to my house so you can come here whenever you need to get away from the Dursleys." She hugged him. "Just don't let your cousin get to it. I don't want that fat idiot getting into my fridge."


	3. Discovering the Magical World

**Chapter 3: Discovering the Magical World**

_Wednesday, 16__th__ January 1991_

A frantic tapping brought Beth to wakefulness. When she was alert enough to recognise it as someone knocking on her front door, she glanced at her bedside clock.

"Quarter to twelve! What kind of time is that for a social call?" she muttered to herself as she donned her dressing gown.

Walking down the hall, she peered through the peek hole in the door. To her surprise, there was no one in sight. Pulling the door open a crack, Beth peered into the darkness; there on her doorstep was a small shadowy form. She turned on the hall light and gasped when the sliver of light threw the figure into relief.

"Harry?"

She pushed the door wide open and approached the shivering boy slumped against the wall beside the door. Calling his name again and receiving no answer, she lifted him to his feet and half carried the barely conscious child into the warmth of her hallway. Kicking the door shut behind them, she helped Harry into the living room and made him lie down on the couch. She grabbed a fluffy throw rug off the nearby armchair and tucked it around him tightly. When she returned from switching on the light, she was horrified to see a dark bruise on his left cheek just below his eye. It had swollen up to the extent that his eye was partially closed. Her hand automatically reached out to check the extent of the damage but recoiled when she felt the heat emanating from his skin. On closer inspection, his cheeks looked flushed and his hair was damp with sweat.

"Harry?" Beth breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes slowly flickered open. "Harry, I need you to tell me how you feel. Does anything hurt?"

"Head, throat, everything hurts." His voice sounded weak and the brief sentence was followed by dry coughs.

"How long have you felt like this?"

More coughs, then: "Since Tuesday, but not as bad."

Beth ran her hand through his hair. "That's a pretty bad bruise. What happened?"

"I… fell down the stairs."

She wasn't convinced but let it go for now. "Ok, I'll get you an icepack for that bruise. Just lie still. Do you need another blanket?"

"Y-yes." His teeth were chattering now.

When she returned with assorted items from her medicine box, his eyes were drooping heavily.

Measuring out some medicine, she handed it to him along with a glass of water. "Here, drink this. It'll help with the pain and fever. Wash it down with the water."

She helped him into a sitting position and supported him while he drank. Once he was finished she sat down on the couch and instructed him to lay his head on her lap. After spreading the second blanket over him, she reached for the ice pack she had wrapped in a tea towel and held it to his face. With her other hand she brushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"Go ahead and sleep. I'll stay here with you."

* * *

_Thursday, 17__th__ January 1991 (The next day)  
_

Beth awoke when she felt movement against her leg. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window, she glanced down where Harry still lay sleeping. Putting a hand to his fevered forehead to check his temperature, she was relieved that it hadn't risen noticeably higher. She gently brushed the ever-unruly hair away from his eyes. Her fingers gently ran across his bruised cheek. She had been a nurse long enough to distinguish between accidental injuries and abuse.

"When will you trust me enough to admit he's hurting you?" she whispered, stroking his hair. "You deserve so much more than that."

She remained that way, gazing at the boy she'd come to love as her own, until he awoke half an hour later.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, keeping his aching head in mind.

He looked first at her, then around the room as he gained his bearings and remembered the events of the night before. "Better," he croaked, "not as sore or cold."

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Maybe some water, my throat is very dry."

Easing herself from under his head, she moved to the kitchen, massaging the crick from her neck. When she returned, she handed him the water and hovered nearby in case he needed help. She needn't have worried, as he seemed stronger and more alert this morning.

"Where are you relatives?" she asked in a would-be causal tone. From his furrowed forehead, she must have failed dismally.

"Out."

Raising an eyebrow, she regarded him critically. "Really? Do they often leave a sick child home alone?"

He shrugged. "They didn't know I was sick."

"Didn't know or didn't care?"

Another shrug.

He looked so lost and vulnerable that she couldn't resist pulling him into a hug. Her arms wrapped around him and she rested her chin on his head. "I'm sorry, I just hate the thought of you on the streets at night, it's dangerous. Promise me next time you'll ring first. I'll come for you, no matter what time it is. I love you, Harry."

His arms tightened around her. "I love you, too."

* * *

_Saturday, 11__th__ May 1991_

Glancing around for any sign of his cousin or his gang, Harry knocked on Beth's front door. While he waited for her to answer the door, he noticed a second car in the driveway.

"Harry!"

The door opened quickly and Beth ushered him into the house, giving him a hug once she had closed the door behind them.

"What have you been up to?"

Harry shrugged. "Not much, just the usual. Dudley managed to bully his parents into buying him four early birthday presents."

"Despicable child," she grimaced. "My older brother is here. He'd love to meet you. Come on, he's out the back. I've put him to work cleaning the gutters."

Following Beth into the back yard, Harry saw a tall, powerfully built man in his early thirties standing on a ladder, scooping plants and dirt from the gutters. He had the same chocolate-brown eyes as his sister but his short, wavy hair was a shade lighter, a dark brown to her raven black curls. He wore faded jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; the front bore the logo of a popular band.

When he noticed them approaching, he descended the ladder and turned to face them. "Come to tell me to take a break, Bethy?" he wiped a sleeve across his sweaty brow and sent her an easy grin.

"You wish," Beth scoffed. "Dave, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is my brother, fondly known to his family as Fix It. We send all our problems to him, whether trivial or life-altering."

"Nice to meet you Harry," Dave said sincerely as he shook Harry's hand. "How has my baby sis been treating you? I've noticed there isn't a trace of weeds in the garden. She usually leaves that for me to take care of."

Elbowing him in the ribs, Beth said, "Don't exaggerate. I only leave you the bigger jobs. Besides, I clearly recall that you forbid me cleaning the gutters and fixing the roof myself so you've only yourself to blame for the extra chores." She turned to Harry, "He likes to do my work for me; it makes him feel chivalrous and manly."

Dave nodded solemnly but as soon as she excused herself to prepare them a snack, he winked at Harry. "Last time she 'fixed' the roof, I had to spend three days repairing her handy work. Don't tell her I said that; we let her believe that a strong breeze bent the TV aerial and cracked the roof tiles."

Harry grinned. Beth's brother was likable with his jovial and easygoing nature. While they waited for Beth to return, they chatted easily about assorted topics. Harry learned that Dave was a Firefighter for the Surrey Fire Department and was married with twin daughters. Dave was just about to get around to telling some embarrassing stories about Beth when the lady herself appeared. She studied them suspiciously when they instantly stopped talking.

"Not divulging any secrets are you, Dave?"

He looked convincing affronted. "Never." When she continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes, he relented. "Well, … only that one where you tried to make a pet out of that deranged llama."

"Claudia wasn't deranged!" Beth defended, pushing the back door closed with her foot.

Dave rolled his eyes. "And she has the weirdest ideas of what make good names. When we were children she wanted to name our pet puppy Hank. A puppy!" He shook his head in wonderment. "I'm dreading the day she has children. She'd probably name her kid Cordelia Henrietta or Dwayne Jehosephat." He gave a mock shudder and sent her a teasing grin when she glared at him.

* * *

_Sunday, 4__th __August 1991_

"So I guess the mystery of the multitude of letters is solved." Beth lay back on the grass and tucked her hands beneath her head. "As is the riddle behind the 'Harry moments.' I knew I should have been a detective instead of a nurse. I've missed my true calling."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You realise that you had nothing to do with finding the answers?"

"Hush. Let me bask in my success," she grinned fiendishly before turning serious. "I'll miss you when you're at school. Will you write to me often?"

Yes, every week." Harry promised.

"Hmm… Harry Potter the Wizard. It does have a ring to it, doesn't it? I always knew you were special." She reached over and ruffled his hair. "Stay out of trouble."

"Of course, I'd hate to receive a nasty letter from you scolding me for risking my neck."

She sent him a mock-stern glare. "Be sure you do."

* * *

_Tuesday, 4__th__ August 1992_

Harry ducked as a blue blouse flew past his left ear. Beth was in the midst of packing for a weeklong Nursing Conference interstate. As he watched she rummaged through her cupboard, tossing an assortment of clothing in the general direction of her bed.

"Are you sure you'll be okay at the Dusleys? You can always leave a message on my mobile if they give you any trouble and I'll take the next flight back. Do you still have my number? And I'll get you the number for my hotel room. I'll be back in time to see you to Hogwarts –"

"Beth, I'll be fine. You just have fun."

She grimaced. "Fun? The lectures are about hand washing, medication errors and the like. I'll be lucky if I manage to stay awake for the duration!" Holding up a creased shirt in front of herself, she frowned and tossed it into a corner. "I'm still not convinced that I should let you go to school alone. You were almost killed last year! What those teachers were thinking, I have no idea! Trolls, dragons, giant living chess sets, killer plants, four-headed dogs -"

"Fluffy only had three heads –"

Beth threw her hands in the air, forgetting she was holding a pair of jeans. "Whatever – whoops, sorry!"

He tossed the jeans back to her and she folded them up hurriedly. "But really, the things you get up to! I think I'll write to the headmaster and demand to be informed if you get into trouble again!"

"That isn't necessary."

She brandished a coat hanger at him threateningly. "I'll decide what's necessary, thank you. Someone's got to make sure you live to adulthood."

* * *

_Wednesday, 12__th__ August 1992_

_Dear Beth, _

_I'm sorry I wasn't able to say goodbye in person before I left. To cut a long story short, a magical creature called a House-elf arrived at the house and tried to convince me not to return to Hogwarts. He seemed to think I would be in danger there. When I refused to give him my word that I'd stay with the Dursleys, he performed magic, which the Dursleys blamed me for. Unfortunately, it scared off Uncle Vernon's potential customers before he could make a huge sale._

_They locked me in my room for four days with barely any food. On the fourth day, Ron and the twins got me out; they were worried because I hadn't sent any letters. The Dursleys had kept Hedwig locked in her cage ever since I got back so I couldn't send any letters. At the moment I'm staying at the Burrow with the Weasley's. Mrs. Weasley has invited you to stay for a week. You can come and see me off at the train station and they'll get you home that afternoon._

_Their house is hard to find so we'll come to get you by Floo, which is where we travel through the fireplace. If it works for you, Mr Weasley and I will arrive at 11 o'clock next Tuesday. I should warn you in advance that their house is very magical, so don't freak out if you see the dishes washing themselves – it's completely normal in the magical world. _

_It's brilliant here – everything is the complete opposite to Privet Drive. The most unusual being that everyone seems to like me. No disapproving sniffs or slights about my appearance – although a mirror did tell me I looked scruffy! Aunt Petunia is a stickler for neatness but here things are much more relaxed._

_How was your conference? Did you manage to stay awake?_

_Harry _

* * *

_Tuesday, 25__th__ August 1992_

Beth shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table as her fireplace suddenly blared to life and Harry appeared in her living room accompanied by a tall, balding man with red hair. The boy laughed at her wide eyes and startled expression.

"I did tell you we'd be arriving via the fireplace." he grinned, offering her his hand.

She accepted the hand and got to her feet. "I thought you were having me on. Last summer you tried to get me to eat a bunch of cockroaches, insisting they were a delicacy in the magical world."

The redheaded man watched their interaction with an amused expression. When no one spoke, she nudged Harry pointedly.

"Oh… right. Beth, this is Mr. Weasley, Ron's dad."

After pleasantries were exchanged, Mr. Weasley picked up Beth's bag. "Harry, since Beth is a Muggle, you'll need to keep hold of her arm when she goes through the fire. I'll follow you."

"Okay," Harry stepped up to the fire and accepted a pinch of Floo powder. Hiding a smile at Beth's nervousness, he grabbed onto her arm and pulled her into the fire. "The Burrow!" he called as he dropped the powder.

After what felt like an eternity of spinning very fast, Beth and Harry fell face forward onto the tiled kitchen floor of the Burrow.

"Smooth, Harry," Fred laughed, helping them to their feet. "Real smooth. Way to teach a Muggle to Floo."

The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; Harry looked around and saw that Ron and George were sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

"Hello, Miss Richman," Mrs. Weasley said, walking forward to greet Beth, "Harry's told us so much about you."

"Please, call me Beth." She shook hands with everyone in turn, "I hope Harry's only mentioned the good things."

The twins sniggered.

"Yeah, he has," said Fred with a huge grin.

"Like the cockroach incident," George put in, an identical grin on his face.

"Ah," Beth grimaced and sent a mock-exasperated glare toward Harry. "No matter, I have some pretty interesting stories about him."


	4. Skillets and Serious Discussions

**Chapter 4: Skillets & Serious Discussions**

_Saturday, 31st July 1993_

'I'm doomed."

Beth bit back an amused smile as Harry flopped down into an armchair with a huge sigh. "Hello to you, too." She set aside her mending. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Aunt Marge is coming to stay for a week."

"Oh," Beth cringed. "Do you want to stay here for the duration?"

Harry gave a huge sigh, "I can't. I managed to bribe my uncle into agreeing to sign my Hogsmeade permission form. He said if I stick to the cover story while Aunt Marge is around, he'd sign it."

"Cover story?"

"I have to pretend I attend St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."

Beth was furious. "That's going too far!"

"We're talking about the Dursleys, remember?" Harry said gloomily. "They have low morals."

"Oh, those – " she muttered something unintelligible under her breath. "That's it! I've had enough of their horrible treatment of you. I'm going over there to teach them some consideration!"

Harry jumped to his feet. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Beth snatched her house keys off the kitchen counter. "Nonsense, I should have done it years ago."

Pushing down his premonition of impending disaster, Harry followed her toward the door. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, they won't listen anyway, so there isn't much point. You might as well save your breath."

"And let you continue to suffer in silence? No." Beth's eyes flashed and Harry found himself marvelling at how someone so small could so closely resemble a ferocious lion.

Harry found himself wishing he had downplayed his home life a little more. Perhaps then they wouldn't be in this predicament. "You're overreacting. It isn't that bad, I can take it. Besides, I leave for Hogwarts in a month –"

" – but will return next summer to be mistreated again, and again the summers after that." She cupped his cheek with her hand and looked him straight in the eye. "I won't stand by and watch my boy be hurt."

Leaving him standing in the hall still marvelling at her words, she marched out the door and set off for Privet Drive.

It took Beth the entire 15 minute walk to calm down enough to face the Dursleys. She felt a powerful urge to strangle someone for the abominable treatment Harry had to endure. The legal system had refused to act with the 'limited evidence' they'd received – surely she hadn't been the only person to report the Dursleys for abuse and neglect.

Reprimanding herself for plotting their doom, Beth took another deep breath. Tempting though it might be to take a rolling pin to the Dursleys, she had to consider Harry. Although, she thought with a rather evil grin, he'd probably find it amusing to watch.

Turning into the driveway of Number Four, Beth marched up to the front door and knocked sharply. The door was opened by a large, beefy man with a bushy moustache.

"Yes?" he said brusquely.

Fighting the impulse to scold the man for his rudeness, Beth pasted on a pleasant expression that completely opposed her true feelings.

"Good afternoon, Mr Dursley. I'm Bethany Richman. I met your wife a few years back; she may have mentioned me. I'd like to speak to you both if you have a moment."

He studied her intently. "You're the one the boy works for."

"Yes, that's correct." She was pleased _their_ cover story was still holding up, although most of the credit had to go to the Dursleys. It was largely due to their stupidity that they hadn't realised their nephew didn't actually do the grueling yard work she supposedly forced upon him.

Vernon's expression became, if possible, even more irritated and he slammed a pudgy hand against the doorframe. "What's he done this time?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Why do you instantly assume the worst? Perhaps I'm here to compliment his hard work."

Making a disbelieving noise in his throat, Vernon waved her inside. "Make it quick, my sister will be here soon." He closed the door with what she considered unnecessary force before plodding toward the kitchen.

She entered the room to see Petunia fussing over her son, trying to force him to eat another slice of thickly iced chocolate cake. The cake was three-quarters gone, leading Beth to believe the overweight boy had been eating steadily for a while. Dudley took up an entire side of the square table and his many layers of fat sagged over the edges of the chair. Crumbs littered his front and icing covered his fleshy fingers; his table manners, or lack thereof, were enough to make Beth's stomach, strong as it was in the face of gruesome injuries, churn horribly.

Petunia finally looked up, her expression of misty-eyed pride very quickly changing to an oddly fixed smile. When she glanced at her husband inquiringly, he gestured for her to take a seat. In the absence of a polite invitation, Beth took the liberty of sitting down in the only remaining chair, turning it so she would not have to look at the repulsive slob of a boy who sat to her right, eating with indecent enthusiasm.

Vernon got straight to the point. "You here to complain about the boy's behaviour? Can't say I'm surprised, he's always been a useless–"

"Harry has behaved just fine," Beth cut over him. "What I'd like to discuss is _your _behaviour toward him."

The Dursleys couldn't have looked more shocked if she had suggested they all take up ballet and get a pet llama while they were at it.

Vernon recovered first. "What do you mean _our_ behaviour? We took him in out of the goodness of our hearts when no one else wanted him. We fed and clothed him and –"

"Taunted him, neglected him and, if I'm not mistaken, beat him," Beth interrupted again, struggling to control her anger. She couldn't help but notice that there was a rather impressive-looking skillet hanging on the wall nearby. A particularly _heavy_, rather impressive-looking skillet.

"I am not aware that the boy is any of your business."

Beth narrowed her eyes. "He is when he shows up at my place obviously injured and in pain; I'm a nurse, I know signs of abuse when I see them."

A slight spasm crossed Vernon's large purple face. The moustache bristled. She could almost see the cogs working in his head working toward a single aim: to get rid of her quickly without arousing suspicion. As if it wasn't already starkly obvious that her suspicions were correct.

"The boy is just clumsy!" Vernon spat out.

"So you're saying that over the past three years, the bruise on his cheek was a result of falling down the stairs; his sprained wrist was caused by falling off his bike; the bruised torso and black eye the result of a schoolyard fight, and the wrenched shoulder from a horse riding accident? That's a lot of injuries in that space of time, even for a complete klutz."

The Dursleys didn't answer but Vernon's face was now a rich plum colour; Petunia was shooting anxious glances through the lace curtains, as if concerned the neighbours would be standing with their ears against the window glass and accompanied by a passel of reporters. Dudley had long since left the room to watch TV in the living room.

Beth looked Mr and Mrs Dursley in the eye in turn before continuing. "I may have believed you if it weren't for the fact that I know Harry doesn't have a bike and has never seen a horse in his life. Not to mention the finger-shaped bruises I saw around his neck barely two weeks ago."

Vernon jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. "Now, see here! You can't come and accuse us of harming the boy!"

"I can and just did," Beth returned, more calmly than she felt. Her eyes kept flickering back to the skillet of their own accord. It wouldn't hurt to perform her neighbourly duty and gently point out the error of their ways… with the skillet supporting her of course.

She suddenly realised that Vernon was speaking to her. Wrenching her eyes away from the weapon – no, kitchen implement – she turned her attention, however distracted, back to him.

"… must agree that all children require discipline. That boy is disrespectful and strong willed, he needs a firm hand to keep him in line."

"Discipline is important to a child's upbringing," she readily agreed, "but only when it remains discipline. What you call 'discipline' is clearly abuse. I have treated Harry with respect and patience and he behaves toward me in the same way. He has rarely given me reason to reprimand him in the five years I've known him. If you treated him with more consideration –"

"Get out!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Get out of my house this minute before I call the police." Vernon had jumped back to his feet, breathing like a wounded rhinoceros.

Stealing one last longing look at her new friend the skillet, Beth stood up and strode out the room. The minute she crossed the doorstep, Vernon slammed the door shut with such force that one of the little panes of glass fell out and shattered. From the yells and curses coming from the other side, she guessed it had landed on his head.

Perhaps a skillet wasn't the only way to get things done.


	5. Trapped

**Chapter 5: Trapped**

_Thursday, June 30__th__ 1994_

Harry lay on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling while listening to Uncle Vernon's footsteps walk heavily down the stairs. His uncle had just informed him that the Dursley family were going out for the afternoon; he had ordered Harry not to touch their possessions, tied his wrist to the bed with a length of rope, and locked his door again. Harry couldn't understand the man's logic; if he couldn't leave his room, much less venture more than 2 feet away from his bedpost, there was no way he could touch their possessions – unless one counted the many broken toys of Dudley's that still littered a corner of the smallest bedroom.

A few minutes later he heard the slamming of car doors, the rumble of an engine, and the unmistakable sound of the car sweeping out of the drive. The empty house creaked around him. The pipes gurgled. The room grew steadily lighter around him as he lay listening to the morning sounds through the window he kept open all the time. A rustle of wings and a sleepy hoot told him Hedwig had awoken. She had been perching in the tree outside his window ever since Harry had smuggled her out that morning.

Harry laid there in a kind of stupor, thinking of Beth, whom he hadn't seen since the Christmas holidays. If only his window wasn't barred he could send Hedwig to her. He missed her greatly and longed for some form of communication. Since his arrival five days ago, he had been locked in his room around the clock except for bathroom breaks twice a day. Harry couldn't understand what he had done this time, but thought it was probably the mere fact that he existed that led Uncle Vernon to keep him away from the rest of the family.

His thoughts turned to Hermione and Ron, wondering what they were doing at this moment. His mind wandered to Hogwarts, imagining walks across the grounds and the warm fire in Hagrid's hut during winter; he could almost smell the smoke and hear the crackle of burning wood…

Harry sat bolt upright.

He _could_ smell smoke.

He _could _hear the crackle of burning wood.

As he strained his ears, he pinpointed the sound as coming from the next room – his cousin's.

* * *

Beth walked slowly back to her house after having released a newly healed lizard back into the wild. It was growing dark; the trees rustled gently in the breeze and cast dark shadows on the ground. From a branch high above her, an owl hooted sleepily as it awoke, preparing for the long night of hunting ahead.

Despite the peaceful atmosphere, she couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling that had bothered her the last few days. Holidays had begun a week ago, yet she had not seen Harry once. Perhaps she was being overprotective. Perhaps Harry just wanted some time to adjust to life away from Hogwarts and his friends. Perhaps the Dursleys had given him a mountain of chores. Perhaps he was drawing away from her because he felt old enough to handle everything by himself. The list went on and on.

Pushing aside her morbid thoughts, Beth stopped at the top of the hill that overlooked her backyard as well as most of Little Whinging. As was her habit, she turned her eyes to the west, where she could usually pick out Number Four. A bright glow caught her eye and she squinted at it. The house was lit up unusually bright – too bright for electrical lights.

Realisation hit her with the force of a crashing wave. She ran the short distance to her house and ducked into the garage, fumbling with her keys for a moment before she found the correct one. Wrenching the driver's door open on her car and climbing in, she deftly reversed onto the deserted cul-de-sac and drove toward Privet Drive.

* * *

Sirius Black was rummaging through kitchen cupboards when he suddenly felt lightheaded. He reached out a hand to steady himself, accidentally knocking a jug of water to the ground with a loud crash.

_He could see a room filled with smoke. Hacking coughs were coming from a small figure kneeling on a bed. He appeared to be fumbling with something at the bedpost. With a cry of relief, the person jumped off the bed and scrambled toward the window. Sirius had a clear view of the person for a moment before a chunk of ceiling gave way and knocked the boy into the wall. A second piece of debris fell, this one alight with flames..._

"Sirius!"

Remus Lupin stood at the door, wand out and eyes scanning the room for signs of intruders. When he saw his friend leaning heavily against the kitchen counter he stuffed his wand back in his pocket and laid a hand on Sirius' arm. "Sirius, are you okay?

"Y-yes," Sirius said shakily. His eyes suddenly filled with fear. "It was Harry!"

"What?"

"I saw him, just now! There's a fire; he's trapped!" Sirius was already sprinting out the front door. "We have to save him!" He pulled out his wand and began transfiguring his appearance as he ran.

Remus was completely flummoxed but followed Sirius as he raced to the end of the wards. Sirius stopped dead as he realised he didn't know where Harry lived. Grabbing his arm, Remus turned on the spot, picturing Privet Drive in his mind.

* * *

The air was so hot it hurt to breathe; the room was filled with smoke. Harry was coughing with every alternative breath as he struggled to untie the rope that bound his wrist to the bedpost. He gave a sob of relief as the rope finally came loose. He jumped off the bed and tried to find an exit.

The trouble being there wasn't one.

The door was securely locked and a section of wall beside it was now on fire. The window still had the bars from two summers ago and there was nothing in the room that he could use to bend them. If ever there was a time he needed his wand, this was it. He cursed himself for failing in his earlier attempts to pick the lock of the cupboard under the stairs.

He dropped to his hands and knees, getting a breath in the clearer air inches from the carpet. Through his fear he dimly remembered Hermione mentioning wandless magic in a book she had read. As he scrambled toward the window, planning to try vanish the bars, or at least transfigure them into something softer, something hit a glancing blow on his shoulder and knocked him onto his side; he instinctively raised his hands to protect his head and neck. Something hit the ground beside him and then the world exploded with flames and weight, burying him, pinning him. He was burning. He screamed as he realised he couldn't move. The debris was crushing him. The burns touched nerves and he recoiled into his mind against the agonizing pain.

He was dying.

* * *

Hastily parking her car by the curb a few houses down from Number Four, Beth shot from the drivers seat. The Dursley's house was ablaze; flames showed in the upstairs windows and smoke spewed from the left side of the building. Emergency vehicles blocked the street. A small crowd stood off to the side beside Petunia's ruined flowerbed. Glancing around, Beth noted the car wasn't in the driveway. It was only a small comfort. What was the chance that the Dursleys had taken Harry with them?

Close to nothing.

"Harry!" Beth immediately took off running, common sense deserting her as she was overcome with the need to find the boy, _her_ boy.

As she neared the scene, a fire fighter grabbed her arm. "Hold it, Bethy. I need you to stay here."

She recognised the voice as her brother's but she continued to fight him with every bit of strength she had. Around them the firefighters were pulling a hose and shouting to be heard over the sound of a power saw. They were aggressively searching for hot spots within the burned-out house trying to find the source of that smoke still rising like a wavering cobra into the air. Agonised screams rent through the air, chilling her to the bone.

"That's Harry!" Beth yelled, still struggling against the grip on her arms. "Harry's in there!"

Dave gave her a shake to get her attention. "Listen to me, I've already got four men combing the building, they'll get him if at all possible. Now, do you know how many people live here with Harry?"

Beth was dimly aware of answering. Meanwhile her eyes searched the windows, looking for signs of movement. She was just about to start fighting again when several men burst out the front door. One was carrying a figure wrapped securely in a fire blanket. He ran straight for the awaiting ambulance and carefully laid his charge on the gurney, where the paramedics instantly began bustling around murmuring to each other in low tones. Wrenching herself from her brother's grip, Beth shoved through the spectators, not pausing to apologise when she trod on several feet in her rush to get to Harry's side.

The fire blanket had been pushed aside; Beth was alarmed at the first clear look at Harry's face. His eyes were streaming and he couldn't open them to more than a squint. He was gasping for air, gagging.

"H-harry?" Beth couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. "Harry, it's Beth."

"B-be–?" A fit of coughing doubled him up. It hurt to hear. Beth could only imagine what it had been like to be trapped in a room with a fire creeping steadily closer.

A paramedic with a nametag that identified him as Neil slipped on an oxygen mask over the coughs. "No talking for now, Harry. Just concentrate on breathing." Neil glanced up at Beth. "Are you a relative?"

"A close friend. C-can I sit by him?"

"Go ahead. Try to keep him calm, talk to him." Neil didn't pause in his ministrations. "Amy, the eye drops."

Neil's partner carefully slipped off Harry's glasses. "Hold on, the eye drops will help." She brushed back his fringe and carefully opened his eyes to add the drops. Then she dabbed at his streaming eyes with sterile gauze. "Let them water and clear, Harry."

Beth ran a hand through the boy's hair. "Just try to calm down, Harry. I'll stay with you."

She continued to speak soothingly while he was treated. Harry was still convulsing with coughs, struggling to draw a breath. He was drenched in sweat; his forearms and right side bore angry burns. Amy slipped an ice pack behind Harry's neck to help cool him down. Meanwhile, Neil cut off the boy's ruined shirt and rested some cold packs on the burnt skin. "I'm going to clean the burns in a moment. Try to keep still, Harry. This will hurt but I'll be as quick as I can, alright?"

Beth saw the taut edge of pain around Harry's mouth as the paramedics treated his arms. Aside from a small whimper and his laboured breathing, Harry was silent. He tightly closed his eyes as tears of pain joined those caused by smoke irritation. When they moved on to his side, a scream tore from his throat and he abruptly went limp.

"Almost done," Neil sympathised as Beth let out a sob. He finished wrapping the burns in gauze and replaced the cold packs. "Let's get him to a hospital."


	6. Sirius vs Beth

**Chapter 6: Black vs Beth**

Sirius and Remus arrived instantly at the end of Privet Drive. One of the houses was burning; flames showed in the windows and smoke spewed from the side of the building. The fire lit up the number on the side of the letterbox, confirming Sirius' vision.

"Harry!" Sirius immediately took off running, aware of Remus' presence beside him.

Around them firefighters were shouting to be heard over the sound of a power saw. They had a hose out and were attempting to douse the fire. As Remus and Sirius got to the scene, they were barred by a firefighter.

"Stay back!" He yelled over the roar of the fire. "The second floor is going to collapse any minute." He tried to herd them back toward the crowd.

"Harry's in there!" Sirius yelled, trying to dart around him.

The fireman gave him a shake to get his attention. "We've already got a kid out. He might be the one you're looking for. You should talk to Captain Richman if you want to know anything else. He's over –" But he'd already lost his audience.

"Captain!"

Richman turned around as the two wizards skidded to a stop in front him.

"I'm looking for my godson, he lives here with his aunt and uncle. Thirteen years old, black hair, glasses and about this tall." Sirius blurted out in a rush.

"You mean Harry?" asked Richman. "He's been taken to a hospital, I'm not sure which one. My sister's with him so I can give her a call when I get off shift, but that may not be until after midnight. I'm sorry but I have to finish up here." He put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. "Beth will take care of him, you can be sure of that."

When the captain jogged back to his men, Sirius began running down the street. "Sirius, where are you going?" Remus asked, racing after him.

"I'm going back to your place to get your owl," Sirius replied without stopping. "I'll send her to Richman's sister." He turned on the spot and disappeared.

Remus Apparated immediately after, appearing beside his friend in his front yard. "So you're sending an owl to a Muggle? That's a bit risky, don't you think? We could just get Dumbledore to help track him –"

They entered the kitchen and Sirius grabbed some parchment and a quill off the table. "Harry told me about a Beth Richman in one of his letters. If she's the right Beth Richman then she's a good friend of his. Chances are he's told her about being a wizard… if not, well, she's about to find out. Trust me, the way he talks about her, it's obvious he adores her. Now, why don't you make yourself useful and go find your crazy owl? She's probably hiding under the couch again."

* * *

Beth closed her eyes and leaned back in the hospital chair beside Harry's bed. He had been admitted to a room two hours ago and was now dozing under the influence of painkillers. A sudden sharp tapping sound broke through her thoughts, making her jump. Looking up at the window, Beth was surprised to see a tawny owl perched on the window sill with a letter clamped in her beak. Beth glanced quickly around the room to check for nurses before standing up to open the window. The owl held out its leg immediately. Beth untied the letter and unrolled it carefully. The lettering was messy and inkblots smeared some parts; it had obviously been written in a rush.

_Dear Miss Richman, _

_I am Harry's godfather. I'm not sure if Harry has ever mentioned me, but he's told me about you. I have heard about the fire and am anxious to see Harry. Could you please tell me where he is? Just give the letter to the owl; she'll know where to find me._

_Sincerely, _

_Orion Black_

Beth paused, contemplating the words. Harry had a godfather. But why was he living with his foul aunt and uncle? Was this Black shirking his duty? Did he really care about Harry? If so, why did he leave the boy? Could she trust this stranger? Harry had never said anything about him. After a moment of thought, Beth turned the parchment over and dashed off a reply letter.

_Dear Mr. Black, _

_Harry will be released from hospital tomorrow afternoon. I will take him home with me. I am a nurse and am fully able to care for his injuries. You may meet us there at 8 o'clock. My house can be found at 2 Aloe Court, Little Whinging, Surrey._

_From what Harry has told me over the years, it seems prudent to request the aid of a magical healer. Although he tries to hide it, I can tell he is in considerable pain; Muggle medicine only provides minimal relief._

_Sincerely, _

_Bethany Richman_

* * *

It was late. Harry had been settled in her spare bedroom and had just fallen into a restless sleep. Neither of them had slept more than a couple of hours last night and Beth was feeling every minute of lost sleep.

She went to the kitchen to fill up spare ice packs to freeze overnight. As she placed them in the freezer and went to turn off the stove light, a sudden whooshing sound caught her attention. There was a rustle of clothing and a man's deep cough. Someone was in her house.

Throat dry, palms sweating, Beth reached for the skillet that hung beside the stove and slipped silently into the shadows. A figure stepped into the dim lighting. As he passed her, Beth aimed at his head and swung the skillet with all her strength – and missed. It whooshed past his head with barely a millimetre to spare.

"Hey!" The man jumped in surprise and put an arm up to protect his head. Beth swung again and again, hitting the man several times in quick succession.

"Will – you – cut – that – out!" A hand grabbed the skillet and wrenched it from her grip and sending it crashing to the floor. His other hand closed around her wrist. "I'm just here to – OW!"

Beth had kicked him hard in the shin. He released her wrist and she scurried backward, taking the opportunity to grab the heavy wooden chopping board from the cupboard. She raised it above her head, ready to strike.

"Lumos," said the man. A bright light flared from the tip of his wand. "Listen I'm – Whoa! Please put that down. I'm not going to hurt you."

Beth stared at the man in front of her. He was pale and gaunt with long black hair. His robes looked similar to those Harry often wore, but were faded and patched in several places. She recognised him from the news report last year.

Sirius Black.

Wow. Apparently lack of sleep caused hallucinations.

"What do you want?" she demanded, not caring she sounded rude. If a mass murderer wanted a polite victim he should come back and murder her when she'd had some sleep.

"Are you Bethany Richman?"

"Like to know your victim's name before brutally murdering her do you?" asked Beth testily.

"What? No! I'm Harry's godfather."

"Of course you are, that's why you barged into my house uninvited," said Beth sarcastically.

"Oh…" He looked sheepish – an odd expression for a mass murderer. "Sorry... I did tell you I was coming."

"I expected Harry's _godfather_ to use the front door like most people. He's three hours late, I assumed he wasn't coming."

Black rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Um… yeah, the Floo took a lot longer than we thought to connect. It took a while to persuade Dumbledore and then we had to convince the Ministry that Harry had changed address so we could hook up the fireplace to the Floo network… but that's a long and dull story that you don't want to hear."

"You still look like the mad mass murderer Black to me," said Beth stubbornly.

Black looked exasperated. "Merlin! If you aren't the most frustrating woman –"

"_I'm_ frustrating? _I'm_ not the one who broke into someone's house in the middle of the night!"

"Alright, so I should have come to the door, been seen by the police, arrested and sentenced to death, leaving Harry alone in the world."

"He wouldn't be alone, he has me! And I've been a darn sight more supportive of him than you have. I didn't abandon him when he needed me!"

Black's face darkened. He looked so frightening that Beth almost took a step back. "You shouldn't say things you don't understand," he scowled.

"So there's a good reason for deserting your godson? Do tell; I'd like to hear it."

"After I see Harry."

"So you can murder him while he's helpless? Not a chance."

He pulled a crumpled sheet of parchment out of a pocket and held it out. "Here, this is the letter I received from you earlier. Is that enough proof for you?"

Without putting down her weapon, Beth tentatively reached out to take the letter. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, only looking away to briefly glance at the letter. It was the one she'd sent the day before. "He never mentioned a godfather," she frowned, surveying him critically.

"He didn't know about me until a few weeks ago," replied Black evenly.

Beth sighed. "I really shouldn't be surprised he has a mass murderer for a godfather. Harry has that kind of luck."

"If it helps, I didn't kill those people. I'm innocent."

She regarded him suspiciously. "It would help quite a lot… _if_ you could prove that statement."

"Harry could vouch for me."

"He's asleep."

"I could wake him up."

"He needs his sleep, he's injured! Or has that little detail escaped your thick skull?"

"Then he can tell you when he wakes up then. Can I see him?"

Beth raised the board again. "You aren't going anywhere near him until you convince me you're harmless. Harry has enough people out for his blood."

"Please."

She almost groaned. This pointless conversation was taxing her limited energy. And now a ruthless mass murderer was resorting to begging pathetically. What a hallucination.

Taking a deep breath she stared into his eyes. From an early age she'd had an uncanny ability to ascertain a person's character by gazing into their eyes.

"Er… what are you doing?" Black asked, looking thoroughly disconcerted.

"Shut up."

What she saw startled her; his eyes contained evidence of a deep emotional pain that had lingered for many years. They looked dull at first, but when she looked deeper she could see loyalty, perseverance and a strength that had no doubt kept him alive through that pain. Yet all of these paled in comparison to the love and dedication this man had for his godson.

She put the board down on the cupboard and turned toward the door. "You can see him." She was halfway down the hall before she realised he hadn't followed. Sticking her head through the kitchen doorway she saw him standing with his mouth open, taken aback.

"Are you coming, or must you continue to keep me away from my patient?" she snapped. Her fingers itched for something heavy to whack him with. If first impressions were anything to go by, this guy was as dumb as a post – no offense to posts.

"Oh… right."

She led him into the guest room where Harry was resting. He was awake and obviously in a lot of pain. He let out a soft moan as they entered. Ignoring her guest, bordering on archenemy, Beth perched on the bed beside Harry and began to run her hand through his hair. "I know it hurts, honey. I can't give you more pain medication for another hour. Just hold on until then."

He blinked up at her, accepting her words without complaint. She leaned down and rested her cheek against his. "It won't be for much longer; I sent an owl to get a magical healer for you." She looked up at Sirius. "Are you –?"

"No." The word seemed to cause the man physical pain. Her initial belief of his love for Harry strengthened. Time would tell. If not, she could go back to Plan A and bash him over the head with something heavy.

"Harry," she began, "do you know Sirius Black?"

A panicked expression crossed his face. "He's innocent –"

"It's okay, Harry. He's here to see you."

She gestured Sirius forward into Harry's line of sight.

"Hey, Harry."

Beth barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes at his awkward introduction. _Men_.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?" Harry asked softly, his eyes were already drooping.

"I had a… vision I guess, of you when you were trapped in your room. Remus and I Apparated to your house but you were already gone. The captain told me you were with his sister. So I sent her an owl which she replied to, telling me your location, and here I am."

Harry glanced at Beth. "I never got around to telling you about Sirius. I only met him for the first time two weeks ago and I thought I'd tell you in person…"

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I know now."

Meanwhile Harry was staring at Sirius. "What happened to you? You've got a massive bruise on your cheek. Did the Aurors find you?"

"What? Oh, well –"

"He entered someone's house unannounced," Beth cut across him, feeling a bit smug. Black glared at her. She smiled back sweetly.

"Oh," said Harry sleepily. "That was a bit stupid."


	7. My Friend the Guard Dog

**Chapter 7: My Friend the Guard Dog**

Beth awoke as the light streamed through the gap above the curtains. She glanced at Harry, pleased when she saw he was sleeping peacefully. He hadn't had an easy night; she'd sat up with him for over half of it, talking with him to keep his mind off the pain. Black had slept straight soundly, not even waking to Harry's stifled cries of pain. It was a shame the skillet was still in the kitchen, because it would certainly be effective for waking the insensitive fool.

At the moment, Black was slumped in the armchair on the other side of the bed, his long matted hair partially obscuring his face as he slept. Beth felt a slight twinge of jealousy when she noticed Harry's hand was lying close to his but quickly quelled it. There was no danger of losing Harry to Black. After all, she'd known Harry for much longer. She'd nursed his injuries and comforted him when he'd been scared or upset.

No sooner had she thought this than she felt ashamed of herself. There was no doubt that the two shared a bond, regardless of how long they'd known each other. Surely Harry's welfare was more important than her own selfish desire to feel needed, to have someone to love and be loved by.

Closing her eyes wearily, Beth leaned back into her chair and slung her legs over the armrest. When she opened them, Black's grey eyes were staring at her.

"What?" she asked softly.

"You look upset," he noted. Something like concern flickered in his eyes but the next moment it was gone, leaving her to assume she'd imagined it.

Beth shrugged. "It's nothing."

"If it were nothing, you wouldn't be beating yourself up about it."

She sighed tiredly. "Has anyone ever told you that you're too nosy for your own good?"

"Countless times. Why? Going to beat me up again?" he teased.

She stretched, wincing when she felt her back crack. "Tempting, but no. I'm content to stay right here and sleep for the next week or so."

The sound of knocking on her front door made her groan. Great. Another visitor. She glanced down at herself, knowing she looked a mess; she still wore the disheveled blue-grey t-shirt and black track pants of the day before; her wavy raven hair was pulling free from its long plait and her eyes felt like sandpaper. And yet someone dared to come to her door.

Black was grinning widely, having guessed her predicament from watching her self-assessment and the resigned expression that had followed. At least someone considered the situation entertaining. She sure didn't.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to get that?" she asked half-heartedly, as she tried to scrape together enough motivation to move from her somewhat comfortable position.

"No," Black replied, amusement clear in his eyes. "Escaped mass murderer, remember?"

"Right, sorry, I forgot." Beth looked at him thoughtfully. "What's the worst that could happen? _You_ scare them away, leaving _me_ free to go back to sleep."

Black chuckled. "Or _you_ could get the door, send them away and then be free to sleep. Meanwhile, _I_ don't get arrested."

"I don't like that plan; it involves me having to move," Beth grumbled as she reluctantly got to her feet.

She felt Black's eyes on her as she staggered out the door and into the hall. It seemed to take forever to get to the front door; it would only serve as a deterrent for whatever idiot was on the other side. After meeting Black, her expectations were pretty low; the man was infuriating, insensitive, inconsiderate and impossible.

When she pulled the door open, she had to lean against it to remain standing. Dave Richman stood on her doorstep waiting to be let in. Meanwhile, she was hiding a mass murderer in her guest bedroom. Probably not something her big brother would approve of.

"Dave! What are you doing here?" she asked frantically.

He looked at her oddly. "I heard you brought Harry here so I came to check how you two are doing."

She tried to inconspicuously stand so that her body blocked the doorway. "This really isn't a good time. Harry's… sleeping."

"Then I can sit with him while you get some sleep. Looks like you could use it," Dave said as he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her back into the house, pushing the door shut behind him with his foot. "I assume Harry's in the guest room?"

"Well, yes… but he needs his rest, we shouldn't disturb him." Beth hurried after her brother as he walked down the hall. "No, don't open that door!" she said desperately when he put his hand on the doorknob.

"Beth, what is wrong? You seem a bit agitated."

"Me? I'm fine," Beth squeaked, darting around him to lean casually on the doorframe. "I just… I don't want you to wake Harry up, he's barely slept since the accident."

Dave studied her carefully. "Beth, if you can't handle his care, you could always get him admitted to hospital again."

"No!" Beth snapped irritably. "I'm fine, Dave. In fact, I _was_ getting some much-needed rest before you came pounding on my door."

"Excellent, now you can get some more sleep while I'm here." Dave nudged her aside and pushed the door open before she could stop him.

Beth cringed, waiting for the explosion. She didn't have to wait long.

"BETHANY MARIE RICHMAN! What is _he_ doing here?"

She followed him into the room. "Who, Dave?" she asked, futilely trying to stall for time.

He spun to face her, looking stressed. "Listen Beth, I didn't say anything when you adopted those poisonous snakes, the hyperactive possums or that crazy over-stretched ferret thing, but this time you've gone too far."

"You can't compare him to a common house pet!" she raged at him. "He isn't an animal, he's a hu –" her mouth fell open with shock as she caught sight of an enormous black dog sitting calmly on the seat that Black had occupied just moments before. "He's… a huge dog," she finished incredulously, feeling slightly lightheaded. Pulling herself together, she turned back to Dave with her hands on her hips. "What's wrong with adopting a dog? You've been telling me for ages that I should get a normal pet like everyone else."

"That giant beast of a dog is not a normal pet, Beth," said Dave exasperatedly. "Do you know how much it'll cost to feed that thing?"

Beth frowned at him before walking over to kneel in front of the enormous dog. "He's not a beast, look at that sweet face," she said, cupping its face in her hands. "It's a bit rich of _you_ to call him a beast. _He_ has never yelled at me or insulted my pets. _You_, however, are a different story." She sent him an accusing glare while stroking the dog's head lovingly. It began to wag its tail happily, thumping softly against the back of the chair.

"Look, Beth, I know you've been lonely but this is ridiculous. The dog is almost bigger than you; he could do you some serious harm. It belongs in a pound."

She scoffed. "Funny, you weren't this concerned about my wellbeing when you abandoned your little sister and left her to be dumped at an orphanage. I can look after myself, Dave. I've been doing it since Mum and Dad died. So what if I decide to get a dog? If anything I'd be safer. He could be a guard dog."

"A guard dog?" Dave laughed. "Against what?"

"Oh, I don't know. What if a mass murderer broke into my house while I was home alone?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "That'd never happen in this lazy neighbourhood. The people are so bored they resort to spying on each other."

"But what if it did?" Beth pressed him. "I'd be completely defenceless."

The dog made a sneezing sound that could have passed as a snort of laughter. Beth poked it in the side – hard. The whole situation was his fault… mostly.

Dave ran a hand through his hair wearily. "Look, Beth, if you're that worried about living alone, get a housemate. Don't adopt a dog that could almost kill you with a single swipe of his paw!"

"There you go insulting my pets again," said Beth in a singsong voice she knew Dave hated. "I've beaten people over the head with a skillet for less than that." The dog looked at her oddly but she ignored it.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Dave said, "You know what? I'm going home. You must be really short on sleep to be acting this loony. I'll drop by in a couple of days to see how you're doing. In the meantime, keep away from that dog."

Shooting him a defiant look, Beth scooted closer to the dog, putting an arm around it and resting her cheek against its head. "I'll definitely keep that in mind," she said insincerely.

Dave threw his hands in the air and stormed down the hall. The front door slammed shut behind him.

Beth let out a long breath. "Oh, I thought he'd never leave," she muttered to herself.

"Tell me about it," said a voice beside her.

Beth spun around. The grinning face of Sirius Black was staring at her. Beth quickly withdrew her arm from around his shoulders and scrambled away from him. "Will you give me some warning before you change back into yourself?" she asked stiffly.

"I figured you were too busy hugging the sweet-faced doggy," he smirked.

"Black, I'm going to hit you again and this time I won't miss," she growled threateningly.

"You'll wake Harry."

She instantly looked toward the bed; miraculously, Harry was still fast asleep.

"Touché," she conceded grudgingly. "Well, I don't think I can sleep after all that excitement. Would you like something to eat?"

He sprung to his feet and followed her into the kitchen like a puppy. "I thought you'd never ask."

Beth began to pull things out of cupboards. "It'll be a few minutes. Did you want to clean up while you wait? I'm pretty sure I've got still got some of Dave's old clothes and other odds and ends somewhere around. He used to live here with me years ago, but never got around to collecting his junk."

Black glanced down at his ragged, grimy robes. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Five minutes later, Beth had dug out a change of clothes and other necessities, thrust them into his hand and shoved him in the direction of the bathroom, with strict orders not to re-enter her kitchen until he had obtained a sufficient level of cleanliness.


	8. Making Connections

**Chapter 8: Making Connections**

Relishing the long-forgotten feeling of being clean, Sirius followed the delicious aroma of freshly cooked scones into the warm kitchen. The mid-morning sun poured through the open curtains, creating a cheerful brightness that artificial light could not have achieved. On the far wall, a square table was set for two, with a jug of orange juice and an assortment of different jams and spreads adorning its surface.

Beth was taking a tray out of the oven when he entered and didn't immediately look up.

"I hope you're hungry because I've made plenty," she commented, setting the tray on the stove top and turning toward him. "Whoa," she whispered when she caught sight of him.

Gone was the filthy, ragged nightmare from the night before. Instead she saw a strikingly handsome man with thick, wavy hair that hung in a shining cascade to his elbows. His face, while painfully thin, was clean-shaven and dirt-free. Dave's old clothes were slightly too big on him and made him appear much thinner than he'd looked in his robes. Overall, the effect was astonishing; somehow he seemed more human and less the annoying idiot she'd beaten up a matter of hours ago.

Beth gave herself a metal shake. "Come sit down," she invited, gesturing to a chair. "I'll join you in a minute."

Obediently taking a seat, Sirius took the time to study his spirited hostess while she was occupied with breakfast preparations. She too had taken the time to freshen up. She now wore a sea-green t-shirt with jeans so faded they were a pale blue; her ebony curls were now contained a loose side ponytail that hung over her shoulder and reached halfway to her waist. If he hadn't known otherwise from bitter experience, Sirius would have said she'd be incapable of defending herself against anyone larger than a twelve-year old child. Standing, the top of her head didn't even reach his shoulder; she had to look up to speak to him. The gracefulness with which she moved completely belied the little spitfire from just 10 hours before. The same spitfire who'd beaten a notorious mass murderer over the head with a kitchen skillet and then still had the audacity to give him sass _and_ scold him for his lack of common courtesy.

He broke off his scrutiny of her when she turned and approached the table with a tray of warm scones, setting a generous amount on the plate in front of him.

"The coffee pot is boiling if you want some," she said languidly, taking a few biscuit-like cakes for herself.

"Sounds good," Sirius replied as he smeared a goodly amount of blackberry jam on a scone before biting into it with enthusiasm. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure as he savoured the delicious home-cooked meal; the first he'd enjoyed in over thirteen years. When he reopened his eyes, Beth was watching him with a sad smile, her own chocolate-brown eyes full of compassion as she got up to fetch the whistling coffee pot. She poured two cups and sat silently as Sirius ate his way steadily through his portion.

Beth waited until he had turned his attention to the scalding-hot brew before speaking.

"Black – Sirius, I think Harry should stay here while he recovers. There's no way he can return to the Dursleys with the house in the state it is. He'd be safe here, only the Dursleys, Weasleys and Hermione know about my connection with Harry." When he didn't comment, she pressed on. "You're welcome to stay of course. I can set up a spare bed in Harry's room for you."

Sirius almost choked in surprise. "You're asking me to stay here? The same person who you beat senseless and then spent every waking hour since glaring daggers at? What brought on such a drastic change of mind?"

"Harry," she said simply.

He blinked. "What?"

Beth looked him directly in the eye. "Last night, he couldn't sleep. We spent quite a long time talking. He told me a quite moving tale of a man who risked everything to protect his godson from his parents' betrayer, a man who, against all odds, located that boy to make sure he knew the truth, a man who offered him something of incalculable worth which gave him a reason to hope."

"What was that?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"A home," said Beth softly. "A family. After I heard his story, I knew I'd underestimated you. He speaks of you with such admiration. For the first time since his parents, someone cared enough to risk their life to save his, and that to him is something almost beyond comprehension."

Sirius swallowed and studied her gravely. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into? I'm a wanted man. If I'm found here, you could be arrested for harbouring a criminal. And Harry isn't an ordinary teenager."

"Sirius… I've been alone for a long time. My parents died when I was fifteen. My brother fell apart and deserted me, leaving me to endure three years in an orphanage. After that I had to balance two jobs and a university degree in order to have any hope for a future. There was little time for socialising. I was completely alone. Then, just over five years ago, I met a scrawny unappreciated eight-year-old boy who showed me kindness and loyalty like I've never seen in my life. He touched me in a way that I hadn't felt since my parents were alive." Her voice broke over the last sentence. Sirius reached out to take her hand in both of his. She raised over-bright eyes to meet his. "I love him, Sirius. I will do whatever it takes to prevent him from going through life alone. And you…" She gave a dry laugh. "I realize trying to brain you with a skillet wasn't an ideal first impression, but you've also been alone for a long time; it's comforting to have people who actually understand what that's like to go through."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully, eyes slightly unfocused. There was a brief pause before Beth spoke up.

"I still think you're annoying, though," she added cheekily.

Sirius was slightly taken aback, but couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Okay, we'll stay. If that's the worst thing you can say about a mass murderer than I think we might just get along."

Beth smiled teasingly. "If not…" she glanced over at the skillet meaningfully.

"You really don't get many visitors, do you?" Sirius said, shaking his head. "Your hostess skills could do with some work."

She merely smiled serenely before getting up to clear the dishes away. "Are you still hungry? There's still half a tray left. Feel free to eat however much you comfortably can. I'm going to take some to Harry."

"Thank you," Sirius said gratefully. When Beth had slipped out of the room, he sipped at his coffee, deep in thought. The young woman intrigued him. One minute she was fierce as a tigress, the next compassionate and vivacious. She touched something in him that he hadn't felt for a long time. She certainly warranted more observation. He had enjoyed the feeling of her fussing over him, and then sharing her story with him. A small smile appeared on his face. There was no doubt that Beth was a sweet woman –

The sound of shattering glass and a startled scream shocked him back to the present.

"Black!" the sweet woman bellowed from the guest room. "Sirius, get in here!"

* * *

_Harry was trapped; fire surrounded him in blazing walls. The searing heat burned his skin. He was choking on the smoke. His eyes were dry and sore, and his head pounded in protest against the smoke and overpowering heat. A few metres away, he watched as the inferno greedily consumed the pile of Dudley's broken toys before moving on toward Harry. There was an ominous creak as the weakened house structure began to give way. There was no escape. The fiery walls were edging closer. A chunk of ceiling fell into the flames, showering Harry with glowering embers. He yelped as they scorched through his clothing in places, burning his skin._

"_Help me!" he yelled desperately as he shook them off. "Someone help me!"_

_His cries were met with silence. Harry knew that no one would come. He was alone. The fire crept steadily closer. The heat was unbearable. He couldn't breathe; his sight and hearing were impaired by the smoke and thundering crackle of the fire. Then, out of nowhere, a voice called out to him over the roar of the flames. _

_"Harry!"_

_He peered through the fire, squinting in an effort to protect his watering eyes from the thick smoke. It didn't do any good; the walls of fire were too thick for him to see the other side._

"_Get me out!" he begged the unknown person. "Please get me out!"_

"_Harry, calm down. You're okay. You're safe!"_

_Whoever the person was, they had a very skewed idea of what qualified as 'safe', Harry thought frantically as he scrambled away from falling debris. Then, high above him, the ceiling gave one last groan, and with a sickening crack, a large beam tore loose and plummeted toward him…_

"No!" Harry sat bolt upright in a cold sweat. White-hot pain coursed through his side at the sudden movement. He slumped over sideways, gasping for breath and cringing as his stomach lurched with nausea. As he lay still waiting for the discomfort to end, he became aware of a hand massaging his back.

"It was just a dream, Harry. Take slow breaths, the pain will pass," Beth said soothingly.

The waves of nausea increased their intensity and as he tried to repress the urge to vomit, pain cleaved through his body like a sword stroke. He gasped and clutched at his stomach. The motion upset his burns and made his head spin. The pain reached a crescendo and a harsh cry tore from his lips; the window shattered with a loud crash. Beth let out a startled scream, but recovered quickly.

"Black – Sirius, get in here!" she yelled.

Sirius sprinted into the room. Beth didn't look up from where she sat with her arm around Harry. "There are two small boxes of medication on the kitchen counter. I need you to bring them to me," she ordered. "Oh, and grab some fresh ice packs from the freezer."

"On it," Sirius called over his shoulder on the way out. He was soon back with the requested items.

"Good," Beth said distractedly as she began measuring out the required dosage. When she had finished, she thrust the glass into Sirius' hands. "Help him drink this while I prepare the ice packs."

Sirius put a strong arm behind Harry's shoulders to support him and held the cup to his lips. At first Harry attempted to hold it himself, but when the movement sent fire up his arms he reluctantly accepted the help. He drank slowly, relishing the feeling of the cool liquid trickling down his dry throat. When he had drained the cup, Sirius set it aside and gently lowered Harry back to the bed.

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He hastily wiped them away on his sleeve, moving awkwardly as he tried to move as little as possible. He felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but the pain made this impossible.

Beth rested the icepacks on his burns. "Just hold on, Harry. The painkillers will kick in within the next fifteen minutes or so." Turning to Sirius she said tightly, "Where is this wizarding doctor I requested? It's been almost two days. If I'd known he'd take so long, I'd have left Harry at the hospital. Goodness knows it would have saved me dozens of fights with my colleagues."

Sirius looked alarmed. "Doctor? Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? By Merlin, it's lucky you got him away from them! Could you imagine the state he'd be in?" He was completely at loss when Beth sent him a death glare so he continued as if he hadn't noticed. "I'll send a Patronus right now to get them to hurry up."

Without further ado, he pulled out his wand and gave it a wave; an immense silvery dog erupted from it and streaked off out the broken window. Beth watched it, wide-eyed, until it was out of sight.

"What does that do? Does the dog scare them into hurrying up?" Beth asked sarcastically.

"Nope," Sirius answered easily, reaching over to give Harry's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "It'll go to Dumbledore and speak the message in my voice. It's useful when you don't know a person's exact location; it's much quicker than an owl."

"Right," said Beth vaguely, looking at Harry with a tense expression. He lay still but his eyes were open, reflecting in the light coming from the window.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Sirius said teasingly, "Now, if I _had _wanted to scare them witless, I could just sick you on them."

Beth sent him a mutinous look that froze on her face when Harry laughed softly.

"He's got a point, Beth," he commented with a small grin. "Remember how you stormed over to my relatives' house and gave them that tongue-lashing?"

"Yeah…" Beth said slowly. She looked rather satisfied with herself, but there was something in her eyes that didn't quite match her smile.

Sirius looked between the two, both grinning reminiscently. "What were you telling them off for?" he asked curiously. He was surprised when the smiles instantly disappeared. Harry bit his lip nervously and glanced at Beth.

That woman looked angry, but at Harry's meaningful look Sirius saw her give the boy an almost imperceptible nod.

"They tend to favour their son over Harry," she explained quietly.

Sirius wasn't convinced, but Harry looked completely exhausted; a full explanation would have to wait until he had recovered.


	9. Insight

**Chapter 9: Insight**

'Get out of my way, silly girl!'

'You're not listening to me. I'd like to be present for the examination. I'm Harry's nurse so I need to be aware of all medical treatment he receives. Perhaps my knowledge of the patient's history will prove helpf –'

'I am quite capable of curing simple burns without the aid of a… _Muggle_,' an oily voice drawled.

'I'm sure you are, but surely you can understand my unease at leaving an injured child alone with a stranger.'

'Miss Richman, my patience is wearing thin.'

'So is mine,' a woman's voice replied sassily. 'You seem to have forgotten that this is _my_ house and Harry is under _my_ care.'

Harry lay listening with his eyes tight shut. He felt very groggy. The words he was hearing seemed to be travelling very slowly from his ears to his brain, so that it was difficult to understand… His arms felt like lead; his eyelids too heavy to lift… He wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, forever…

'Fine,' the man spat after a lengthy silence.

There was a swish of robes and the door creaked open. A low growl sounded from the chair beside the bed.

'Why is that animal in here? I would have thought even _Muggles_ could understand the need for cleanliness around injuries.'

'Of course we do, sir, but animals do wonders at boosting morale. I feel it is an important element for the healing journey. Surely you had a pet as a child?'

The man made an impatient noise in his throat. 'I didn't come here to be interrogated, Miss Richman. I came to do a simple task, one which will take longer if you can't keep quiet.'

'Well, Sir,' the woman returned easily, 'perhaps if you stopped criticising the way this 'Muggle' cares for a boy you don't give a fig about, you could finish and be on your way within the hour.'

Harry's brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, he opened his eyes. Everything was slightly blurred. Somebody had removed his glasses. He was lying on his back facing Beth, who stood beside the large black dog. Both were staring over Harry at someone on the other side of the bed.

There was another long silence between Beth and the unknown visitor, and then Harry felt hands gently unwrapping the gauze that covered his arms. The dog growled again and made a move as if to jump off the chair.

'Shhh, it's okay,' Beth murmured to the dog, putting a reassuring hand on its back. 'He's here to help.' Her face lit up when she realised Harry was awake. 'How are you feeling?' she asked as she handed him his glasses.

'Better,' Harry said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He turned his head and stopped short as he saw who was undoing his bandages.

'Who applied the dressings?' Severus Snape asked coldly as he moved to unbandage Harry's side.

'I did,' said Beth, not looking the least bit ruffled by his expression of utmost disgust.

Snape made an indifferent noise in his throat that Harry supposed would have been the equivalent of a hearty 'Well done!' from anyone else.

'Drink this.'

The goblet was shoved toward Harry so abruptly that he couldn't bring his arms up in time to grab it. Only Beth's quick reflexes saved Harry from spilling the contents all over himself. As she moved to help Harry drink the potion she threw Snape a severe look.

Harry, however, was determined not to display weakness in front of his least favourite Professor, and had already downed it in one gulp. He gasped and dropped the empty goblet as an icy-cold feeling spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes before disappearing, leaving him completely painless. He sighed in relief as the pain left, then began to move an arm experimentally.

'Potter,' Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. 'The absence of pain does not mean you are healed. If you do not wish to do irreparable nerve damage, you will keep still until I'm finished.'

Beth muttered something that sounded distinctly like 'bedside manner of a constipated troll' under her breath. The black dog wagged its tail in agreement.

Snape showed no indication that he had heard; he waved his wand in a series of intricate movements, before putting it away. He thrust a small jar of a colourless, jelly-like substance into Beth's hands. 'Rub this on the burns twice a day. They should clear up within two to three days. He should get gentle exercise, moving around the house will suffice for the first week. Increase it from there until – RICHMAN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?'

While listening to his instructions Beth had looked into his cold, black eyes, and had inadvertently caught a glimpse of a string of memories… Without warning, something behind Snape's eyes slammed down, viciously expelling her from his mind.

She gasped as his hand closed tight over her upper arm, closed with a pincer-like grip.

'Have – you – quite – finished?' said Snape furiously, shaking Beth so hard she felt dizzy.

'Hey! Let her go!' Harry yelled, trying to disentangle himself from the sheets.

The dog barked loudly and scrambled off the chair.

But Beth was staring at Snape with compassion. 'I'm sorry you had to go through that, I didn't –'

Snape threw her from him. The force of it sent her reeling backward. As she fell, her flailing arm knocked into the bedside table, sending the lamp, a drinking glass and small pile of books crashing to the floor in a mass of water and broken glass.

The dog was instantly in front of her, growling menacingly as it displayed rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Beth grabbed it by the scruff of the neck as it lunged at Snape. 'No, don't,' she said softly. 'It's not worth it.'

It was scary: Snape's lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared. "You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!" he bellowed at Beth.

Harry couldn't help but feel a burst of admiration for her; if Snape had been looking at him that way, he would have run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. While Beth was carefully avoiding Snape's eyes, her face was set in steely determination.

Shooting one last contemptuous glare at Beth, Snape turned on his heel and swept back across the room. The front door slammed and he was gone.

Beth remained where she had fallen, staring blankly at the doorway that Snape had vanished through. Her mask of composure slipped, leaving her looking scared and vulnerable. A hand touched her shoulder; she spun around to see Sirius kneeling beside her.

'Are you okay?' he asked gently.

She didn't meet his eyes, too shaken from the recent incident to risk it. 'Yes.'

Sirius smiled and offered a hand to help her up. He frowned when he noticed blood on her hand. 'You're bleeding.'

Glancing at her palm, Beth blinked at the shard of glass that was embedded there. 'I didn't even feel it,' she said in surprise as she clambered to her feet.

Taking her gently by the elbow, Sirius led her to the chair. 'I can fix it instantly if you want. It's a very simple spell.' He sent a sidelong wink at Harry who was watching them carefully. 'It probably won't blow your head off. No promises though.'

Beth managed a small smile. 'You know, you were almost nice for a second there. Why'd you have to go and ruin it?'

Sirius just grinned, looking rather pleased with himself. 'Right, then… keep still.' He carefully pulled out the glass and pointed his wand at her hand. 'Sanare.'

The blood vanished and the skin instantly knitted together. Beth stared at her hand in amazement. 'Incredible!'

Sirius suddenly noticed that Harry was still staring at him. 'What's up?' he asked.

'You look really different now you've cleaned up. I can't believe I didn't notice before.'

Sirius laughed. 'Quite a change, isn't it? It's amazing what a hot bath and a good night's sleep can do for a man. What do you think? Will anyone recognize me?'

Harry shook his head. '_I_ almost didn't recognize you! If I hadn't just seen you change from your Animagus form I wouldn't have believed it was you.'

'Yes, he did look a fright didn't he,' mused Beth. 'And he wonders why I beat him up.'

'Did you really beat him up?' Harry asked incredulously. 'I thought you were kidding!'

Beth put her hands on her hips and drew herself to her full, but admittedly short, height. 'What? Don't you think I can hold my own against an intruder?'

Godfather and godson exchanged a glance. 'Nope,' they said in unison.

'Sirius has a nasty bruise on his cheek; I'm completely injury-free. What does that tell you?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. 'I dunno, maybe that he's too much of a gentleman to hit back?'

'I second that,' Sirius crowed gleefully; he reached over to give Harry a high five.

Beth threw her hands in the air in mock-surrender. 'Okay, fine, you win!' Grinning broadly, she made to exit the room but stopped at the door. 'Oh, wow, it's almost two o'clock already! Harry, you've barely eaten anything today. Are you hungry?'

'Yeah, I am,' Harry replied just as his stomach grumbled loudly.

'How does macaroni and cheese sound?'

'Brilliant,' Harry grinned.

'I'll get right on it. Sirius, you want some?'

'I'd love some. Would you like some help?'

Beth smiled. 'Certainly. Harry, if you feel up to it, there's time for you to wash up before lunch. You know where everything is. Just give a yell if you need anything.'

'Thanks, Beth,' Harry said as he slid off the bed and pulled a change of clothes out the wardrobe.


	10. To Trust Again

**Chapter 10: To Trust Again  
**

'So he stays here often then?' Sirius asked Beth when they were in the kitchen.

'Oh, he drops in from time to time,' she answered vaguely, pulling a saucepan out of the cupboard and filling it with water from the tap.

Sirius moved to face her. 'Beth, he must stay here quite a bit. There were several changes of clothes in the cupboard he opened, and the guest room is decorated to suit a teenage boy's tastes.' She didn't say anything, so he went on. 'His relatives are nowhere in sight despite the fact that their nephew was just badly injured. On top of that…' Sirius paused, looking pained. 'On top of that, I saw Harry – in my vision or whatever it was – tied to the bed by his wrist. It doesn't take a genius to work out something is seriously wrong, and when it involves my godson, I think I have the right to know.'

There was a moment where neither of them moved nor spoke. Beth fidgeted with the edge of the pasta bag. 'You're right.'

Sirius pulled open the cutlery draw. 'I sense a 'but' coming,' he observed, picking up three sets of knives and forks.

Shooting him an irritated look, Beth ripped open the pasta bag and dumped the contents into the saucepan. 'I can't say anything without his permission.'

'For Merlin's sake, Beth! He's a child; we're the adults!' snapped Sirius, almost slamming the utensils onto the table. 'It's our responsibility to look out for his welfare!'

Beth's eyes flashed angrily. 'Yes, he's a child,' she snapped, 'but he's been through more than you know. He has trouble enough just trusting adults. I'm not about to risk destroying the trust he has in me. Do you have any idea what that would do to him? Very few adults have his full trust. You can't just come bungling in to try fix his life for him!'

'If you care about him so much, why haven't you done something?' Sirius shot back without thinking. As soon as words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back.

Beth's anger instantly faded; she now looked thoroughly dejected. 'I _have_ tried,' she said quietly. 'I've reported the Dursleys to the authorities more than once; I've gone to their house and tried to talk them into treating Harry better – but nothing works. The authorities can't do much on my word alone – I guess no one else cared enough to get involved, or perhaps they didn't notice. I heard a Social Worker paid the Dursleys a visit a few years back but she didn't find anything wrong – apparently someone let slip to Vernon that she'd be coming. Harry told me about it afterward – he knows I made the reports.'

Beth finally raised her eyes (although Sirius noticed she was careful not to look directly at him). 'So, tell me, Sirius. What else could I have done? I did all I could. I tried to get him out of there. When that failed, I provided a sanctuary, offered my friendship – It doesn't seem nearly enough… but it's all I can do for now. In the meantime, I'll keep pestering the Authorities.'

Sirius ran his hands over his face wearily. 'I shouldn't have said that,' he said regretfully. 'I was angry at myself and took it out on you. I'm sorry.'

'May I ask why?' Beth asked. 'You don't have to tell me,' she added hurriedly, 'but I thought it might help for us to get to know each other… since we're both looking after Harry.'

Sirius rubbed his freshly-shaven cheek thoughtfully. 'Do you know how Harry's parents died?' he asked.

'Yes, Harry told me Voldemort killed them,' Beth answered. 'But what has that –'

"I'm getting to that," Sirius assured her. 'Well, I went to school with Harry's parents. I became good friends with his father and two others, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. We were inseparable, the four of us. We did everything together. James and I were particularly close – as good as brothers. I was best man when James married Lily. Then they named me godfather to Harry.' He smiled reminiscently before turning serious. 'During those years Voldemort was at the peak of his power; he went after the Potters. Dumbledore, who was then working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.'

'What does that do?' Beth asked in a hushed tone.

'It's an immensely complex spell," Sirius explained, 'involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find – unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it.'

'So you were the Secret-Keeper?'

'No,' Sirius said, his voice suddenly husky. 'They wanted me to, but I thought it'd be too obvious; Voldemort was sure to know James and I were close. I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment; at the risk of sounding bigheaded, Peter wasn't in our league, talent-wise. I thought I could fool Voldemort by persuading them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me –'

It happened suddenly; absorbed in his story, Beth was not aware of the exact moment her eyes had wandered upward to meet his. One moment she was looking into his anguished grey eyes, the next she could see the memory play out before her, like a gigantic movie screen. A ruined house… bodies… a child's shrill cry…

Letting out a horrified gasp, she tore her eyes away from his, ripping her conscience from his mind. _His_ mind. _His_ personal memories. _His_ emotions, regrets, successes and so much more… _His_ mind… which she had just invaded.

'I – I'm sorry!' she stuttered, backing away so quickly she ran into the counter. 'I didn't mean – I had no right –'

Sirius blinked dazedly. 'What happened?'

Beth gave him a fearful look. 'I'm sorry!' she repeated. 'I can't always control it – sometimes it just happens and I can't stop it! I'm sorry, I know it's creepy – I only did it to you that one time in the kitchen just to make sure you wouldn't hurt Harry – You were demanding to see him and I didn't know what else to do – I'll try not to do it again but –'

'Bethany,' he said softly but firmly, stopping her short. 'Is this why you never look me or Harry directly in the eye?'

She remained silent, but nodded infinitesimally, still staring fixedly at her hands. Seeing her look so vulnerable stirred something inside him, something that he hadn't felt for a long time.

'You have nothing to fear from me, you know that, right?' he said quietly.

'Yes,' she whispered. 'Yes, I know I don't.'

'Will you look at me?'

She stiffened. 'What?'

'Look at me, Beth,' he repeated gently.

She slowly raised her eyes to meet his; he didn't look away.

Once again, her mind filled with images from his. Once again, she saw the derelict cottage… It was as though she were floating beside Sirius's younger self as he ran up the front path and saw the door hanging from its hinges. His anguished cry echoed in her ears as she watched him kneel beside the dead form of… no, it couldn't be. Her heart constricted horribly as she saw a man dead on the floor, a man who looked so much like Harry… but no, Harry was safe in her home…

The memory dragged on… Sirius moved further into the rickety house. A beautiful woman lay crumpled upon the floor, her auburn hair cascading onto her shoulders like a waterfall of glowing embers. Sirius collapsed white-faced at the woman's side, sitting motionless as tears ran down his face… A child's shrill cry made Beth look up with a start. Sirius instantly leaped to his feet, shoving aside debris until he found a black-haired baby lying in a cot with a miraculously placed ceiling beam across the top, saving him from being crushed…

Sirius lifted the child into his arms, only to give him to a large man with a thick black beard mere minutes later… He watched as the man took off on an enormous motorbike… into the moonless sky… Beth turned to face Sirius and cringed at the murderous gleam in his eyes… He abruptly twisted on the spot. Their surroundings disappeared in a swirl of colours… They reappeared outside another house. Sirius charged inside and searched it like a man possessed only to exit a moment later… again they disappeared and reappeared in a different place…

It seemed like hours passed… Now they were on a street. Small crowds of people bustled around, absorbed in their shopping, oblivious to the horrors that had happened only the night before… Angry yells… terrified screams… explosions… blood… more bodies…

Beth watched, horrified, as Sirius was dragged off by a group of robed people… taken to a place where despair was thick in the air… he was thrown into a filthy cell… voices were in his head… _Murderer, _they said. _Coward_. _Betrayer_. _No_, pleaded another voice. _I'm innocent… innocent_… _Murderer_. _Coward_. _Betrayer_… The voices rose in volume and insistence, pounding against the inside of his mind… Unconsciousness came as a welcome relief…

When the memory faded, Beth didn't immediately move, paralysed by the horrors she had witnessed, that Sirius had lived through.

'Is that where you've been?' she asked when the silence became too much to bear. 'All these years?'

'Yes.' Sirius looked disgusted with himself. 'There I was, wallowing in my own misery while Harry needed me. His parents would be furious… they only asked me to do one thing, to look after their son if anything happened to them… and I failed.'

'You didn't fail. You're here aren't you?' Beth said quietly.

'More than thirteen years late,' he said bitterly.

'Harry doesn't seem to think you've failed him; on the contrary, you're one of the best things that has ever happened to him. He understands, Sirius,' Beth said fervently, 'he understands that your grief was so intense that it clouded your judgement. Do you think that the knowledge that you loved his parents would upset him? Of course not! In fact, I'm convinced that is exactly why he has become so close to you in so little time.'

Sirius was silent for a long time. 'You might be right,' he murmured thoughtfully.

'Of course I'm right,' Beth teased gently. She glanced toward the stove and quickly lifted the lid as she saw the saucepan about to boil over. Feeling a change in subject was in order, she asked, 'Is there anything in particular you'd like to do this afternoon? Harry will need to take it easy but there's no reason why we can't enjoy the weather. Do you think it safe for you to go outside? I've got a really dense garden out front with lots of places for a dog to hide, and my backyard joins onto a protected park. It's really quite secluded.'

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Beth looked at him nervously. 'Should I answer that?' she asked.

After a moment of thought, Sirius nodded slowly. 'Go ahead. I'll stay in here.'

'Okay,' said Beth as she moved reluctantly toward the door, 'but if that's Dave again I'm going to set my dog on him.'


	11. Trapped Again

**Chapter 11: Trapped Again**

When Beth pulled open the door, there was a stranger standing on her doorstep. He was wearing some extremely faded jeans and a grey T-shirt that looked as though it might have once been black. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with grey. He looked ill and exhausted but he smiled warmly at Beth.

'Good afternoon, my name is Remus Lupin. I wonder if I might see Harry.'

The name sounded familiar. Beth smiled as it came to her. 'You were his Defense teacher, weren't you? Harry's told me so much about you. Please, come in.'

As she stepped aside to allow him to enter, the black dog came trotting into the hall wagging its tail happily.

'What are you doing?' she scolded, thinking Sirius must have lost his mind. 'You were supposed to stay in the kitchen!'

The dog disappeared to be replaced by a tall man with a roguish grin. 'Nothing much is happening in there. I got bored.' He gave Remus a clap on the shoulder. 'Good to see you again, mate. What brings you here?'

'I collected Harry's trunk from the ruins of his relatives house. It's shrunken in my pocket,' Remus answered, adding the last part for Beth's benefit.

'But… the house is barely standing! How could a storage trunk possibly have survived that inferno?' Beth interjected.

Sirius grinned. 'One word: magic. The trunk must've had a protective charm applied before it was sold. You wouldn't believe how many kids used to accidentally set their trunks on fire back in my school days. Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken so long for someone to come up with the idea.'

Beth shook her head in amazement as she led the way back to the bright, sunlit kitchen. 'We were just about to have a late lunch, Mr Lupin. You're welcome to join us. There's more than enough for four of us. You look like you could use a good meal.'

If Remus was disconcerted at the unsubtle hint from someone he'd just met, he didn't let it show. 'If it isn't too much trouble,' he said in his quiet, polite voice.

'Oh, no trouble at all,' she assured him. 'I've wanted to meet you for ages. You've made quite an impression on Harry. The way he talks about you, I almost expect you to be able to grow wings and fly!'

Sirius chuckled. 'Looks like you've got a fan, Remus! What did you do in that classroom? Hand out chocolate?'

Beth grinned. 'Well, you came here to see Harry, so I'll see if he's ready for company. Sirius, could you please keep an eye on the pasta? I'll just be a moment.' When he nodded she ducked out of the room, leaving Sirius and Remus alone.

'So, you got any job opportunities lined up?' Sirius asked, casting a worried glance at his friend's tattered clothes.

'I've found a couple that sound promising. A bookshop in London is advertising for a shop assistant, and a family over at Croydon want a tutor for three sets of twin boys.'

'Three sets?' Sirius repeated, sounding terrified at the very thought. 'You're brave.'

'No,' said Remus with a wry smile, 'just desperate.'

They were silent for several minutes then Sirius exhaled heavily. 'I wish you'd let me help you. It isn't fair… people ought to get over their stupid prejudices.'

'I'll manage,' said Remus firmly. 'I always have. Now tell me, how's Harry going?'

'Oh, he's – '

'Still alive.'

Harry had entered the room with Beth hovering beside him. His hair was still damp and fresh gauze covered his forearms. Aside from the slightly stiff way he held himself, one would never have guessed that he'd been badly injured a matter of days ago. Hedwig was perched on his left shoulder, having just flown in through an opened window.

'Hi, Professor,' he greeted happily as he sat in the chair Sirius pulled out.

Remus returned his smile. 'How are you feeling?'

'Much better, thanks.' Harry glanced over to where Beth was stirring the macaroni. 'Do you need any help, Beth?' he asked, half rising.

'You're still my patient, Harry. The only thing you're doing is resting,' Beth said in mild exasperation as she dished out four servings. 'If I need help, I'll work your godfather to the bone. He needs to earn his dog biscuits.'

Sirius gave a sad shake of his head, his voice positively tragic as he said, 'That you would try to feed anyone dog biscuits when there is homemade macaroni and cheese is nothing short of a crime.'

After lunch Beth shooed them into the living room while she set about making tea and coffee. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she heard Harry say her name just before the three of them burst into laughter. She could imagine him explaining in detail about her last meeting with the Dursleys. At least, she hoped it was the one about the Dursleys. It could be her first attempt at using the Floo network… her run in with that moody Goblin at Gringotts… She tried not to cringe at the memory. But whatever the reason for their laughter, Beth couldn't help but smile contentedly as she listened to them. This was what she had been missing: a house filled with laughter.

Hearing the kettle whistle, she piled everything onto a tray and walked back into the living room. She arrived in time to see Sirius pull Harry into a headlock.

'Don't you injure my patient, Black!' she warned, glaring at him.

'Injure my own godson? Never – ow!' He quickly released Harry as the boy elbowed him in the stomach. 'So, you don't care if he injures me, then?' he asked, laughing and raising an arm to protect himself from the pillow that Harry had just chucked at his head.

Beth shrugged. 'Not in the slightest, you started it. Harry, you should be resting. Maybe you should lie down.'

'I feel fine, Beth,' Harry told her patiently. 'Good as new!'

'It's only been two days,' said Beth, studying him sceptically. 'No one heals that fast!'

'Well, I did have a pretty good nurse,' Harry answered slyly, making Beth laugh and roll her eyes at him. His comment had the desired effect, however, because she ceased her attempts to make him lie down. Instead she curled up at the other side of his couch and contented herself with sending the occasional furtive glance his way.

When the two surfaced from their brief argument, Sirius was informing Remus of the morning's events.

'He actually threatened Beth! Grabbed her by the arms and shook her! Bedside manner of a constipated troll indeed!'

Remus choked on his tea. 'What?'

'Beth's words, not mine.'

'No, not that – why did Snape react that way?' he asked, frowning.

'Why?' repeated Sirius incredulously, as though the answer was painfully obvious. 'Because he's a foul, loathsome, evil, slimy, greasy g –'

'Don't be too hard on him,' Beth cut across him, no longer laughing. 'He… he hasn't had an easy life.'

Sirius frowned, thinking quickly. 'You saw inside his head, didn't you?'

'Yes,' said Beth slowly, 'and he had every reason to be angry with me for intruding on something so personal.'

'When you say you saw inside his head,' began Remus, intrigued, 'what do you mean, exactly? Are you a witch?'

'I – I really don't know _what_ I am,' confessed Beth, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. 'Sometimes, when I look people in the eye, I catch a glimpse of their memories… their thoughts, emotions, regrets… I can't always control it – it often happens rather quickly – but in the last few years, it's gotten stronger; it happens more often and the images are more vivid. It's… it's gotten to the point where I can barely hide it from my work colleagues – they know something isn't quite… well… _normal_ about me…'

'No one's "normal", Beth,' said Harry reassuringly. 'I mean, look at me. I'm definitely not normal.'

'You've got that right,' she teased. 'No "normal" person would mix Nutella and Peanut Butter together in a sandwich like you do.'

'Hey, it's delicious!' Harry said defensively, although he was grinning; it seemed like this was a regular topic of debate. 'Tastes just like a Snickers bar! You really ought to try it sometime.'

Sirius was watching Remus. 'So, what do you think?' he asked. 'Do you think what she can do is Legilimency?'

'I don't know,' said Remus, frowning thoughtfully. 'It is my understanding that Legilimency is voluntary. Dumbledore would know more about it. I can ask him for you if you –' He cut himself off abruptly, his head swivelling toward the front window.

"Remus, what –?'

Sirius didn't have time to finish the sentence, because the next second, the door was blown off its hinges.

Everything seemed fuzzy, slow. Remus and Sirius jumped to their feet and drew their wands. Beth looked as though she was still processing that something strange had just happened. Four cloaked and masked figures filed through the front door, their wands raised.

'Expulso!' the closest one bellowed, and the cupboard behind Sirius blew up; the force of the explosion slammed him into the wall and his wand flew from his hand.

'Progeto!' Remus shouted, vaulting over the coffee table. 'Stupefy!'

Spurred into action, Beth seized Harry by the wrist and began dragging him toward the back door. 'Come ON!' A streak of light whizzed over their heads, whether a protective charm or something more sinister she did not know.

A cloaked figure charged at Sirius, who grabbed the teapot and flung the remaining contents into the man's face; he gave a yelp of pain, clawing at his blistering face. Sirius scrambled to his feet and snatched up his wand.

'Stupefy!' he cried.

The cloaked man was hit in the face by a jet of red light: He slumped over sideways, unconscious. As they darted through the kitchen, Beth and Harry could hear flashes and bangs and screams of pain coming from the living room.

One man slipped away from his fighting companions and advanced on Beth and Harry, firing spells at a furious rate while they tried to jump and twist out of the way. Harry had his wand out, and was sending several of his own spells at the attackers; his movements looked rather stiff and slow as he forced his aching arm to cooperate.

Beth found herself standing beside the kitchen counter. Thinking quickly, she began throwing everything she could reach at the intruders. He gave an irritated yell as he was pelted with oranges, plates and saucepans. For a moment it appeared that he would retreat, but then another of his friends joined him. Holding one hand protectively over his head, the second man grabbed Harry's arm tightly, making him cry out with pain.

'Let go of him!' yelled Beth. White-hot fury arose in her like she had never felt before. Instinctively, she raised furious eyes to meet his cold, black ones… then she was inside his mind... memories were flashing quickly… she searched through them quickly until she found the right one… Seizing at it, she forced him to remember every detail, to relive the horror of standing before a tall snake-faced man.

Then there was pain; pain so intense it ripped her from his mind. She came back to herself with a jolt to see her victim collapse, moaning and trembling. The second man was standing beside his comrade, wand still pointing at her. Her head pounded savagely, as if to compete with the pain that now cleaved through her side like a sword stroke. For a few seconds she just stared at him in shock then her knees gave way and she fell to the ground beside her attacker.

She could see Harry now crouched behind the counter; Sirius was with him, shielding him with his own body as he sent spell after spell at their remaining two attackers. Remus limped into the room and yelled something at him. Sirius grabbed Harry's free hand, turned on the spot and disappeared… Beth felt a hand close around her upper arm and she knew no more…


	12. Refuge

**Chapter 12: Refuge**

Harry opened his eyes and was dazzled by gold and green; he had no idea what had happened, he only knew that his arms and side were burning, and he was lying on what seemed to be leaves and twigs. Struggling to draw breath into lungs that felt flattened, he blinked and realized that the gaudy glare was sunlight streaming through a canopy of leaves far above him. Then leaves rustled somewhere near his head and he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, ready to face another masked attacker, but saw Sirius climbing to his feet. Looking around, Harry saw that they were in a forest clearing, apparently alone.

'Are you okay?' Sirius asked, coming to his side. Harry could see a deep cut trickling blood down his left cheek.

'Yes… what happened?**'**

Sirius face was grim as he slowly turned in a full circle, his eyes scanning the trees. 'I Apparated us here – we're deep in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts. It was an old hangout for the Marauders… Come on, we need to find where Remus Apparated. He shouldn't be far away… Wand out. Stay close to me.'

As they left the clearing and headed into the forest, the light grew dimmer; the canopy above them so thick that light could barely penetrate through to the ground. Harry glanced at his watch and was surprised to find that it was only early evening. It seemed like another lifetime where they'd enjoyed a late lunch around the well-scrubbed wooden table in Beth's sunny kitchen.

Every tiny movement seemed magnified in the vastness of the forest. Harry knew that it must be full of living creatures, but he wished they would all remain still and silent so that he could separate their scurryings and prowlings from noises that might lead them to Remus and Beth. He remembered the sound of a cloak slithering over dead leaves many years ago, and at once thought he heard it again before mentally shaking himself. There was nothing here. He was just about to suggest to Sirius that they try looking in another direction when it happened.

A bright silver light appeared to the right of him, moving through the trees. Whatever the source, it was moving very quickly, yet soundlessly. The light seemed simply to soar toward him.

'Sirius,' he said loudly, raising his wand higher. 'There's something over there.'

Then the source of the light leaped out from a group of oaks. It was a silver white wolf, moon-bright and dazzling in the shadowy forest. No sooner had Harry recognised it to be a Patronus, then it opened its mouth wide and spoke in the soft, slightly hoarse voice of Remus Lupin.

'Beth is injured. Hurry!'

Its brief message delivered, the wolf turned abruptly and bounded away. Without hesitation, Sirius and Harry tore after it, dodging trees and ducking under branches as they struggled to keep it in sight. Leaves crunched beneath their feet, but the wolf made no sound, for he was nothing but light. Deeper and deeper into the forest he led them, until at last the wolf came to a halt. He turned his mighty head toward them once more and then, without warning, vanished.

Harry tore his eyes away from the spot where the wolf had disappeared as to Sirius began walking quickly between the trees, scanning their surroundings carefully.

'Remus?' he called out. 'Beth?'

'Over here!' came a terse voice from behind an outcropping of rock. There was the sound of material ripping. Someone groaned softly.

They found Remus kneeling beside an unconscious Beth. His lower leg was bleeding from a sizable gash, but although Remus' jaw was set in obvious pain, he seemed content to ignore it. The moment Harry's eyes fell upon Beth, he realised why; blood drenched the whole of her right side and her face stood out, greyish-white, against the leaf-strewn earth.

'What happened to her?' Harry asked, dropping to his knees beside her head.

'She was hit,' said Remus, tearing another strip off the tattered hem of his robes and pressing it firmly against her side, where the blood seemed to have soaked through several other wadded up strips of robe. 'It's deep. Can't get… bleeding… to stop,' he panted. Harry saw he was shaking from head to foot.

Sirius must have noticed this too, because he conjured some fresh bandages and moved to help his friend. 'Here, I'll take over… Okay, I've got it now, you can move your hands.'

'I sent a… Patronus to… Hogwarts… right before you,' Remus said through clenched teeth. He sagged weakly against a wide tree trunk. 'Help… should come… soon.'

Harry nodded, only half listening as he handed bandages to Sirius, watching wordlessly as Sirius pressed bandage after bandage to Beth's side. His insides crawled unpleasantly as he noticed the amount of blood that had spilled onto the grass and dead leaves beneath her.

After what seemed like an eternity later, Sirius finally glanced up at Harry. 'I've got the bleeding to slow, but I still need to keep up the pressure. Could check on Remus? Find out how badly he's hurt and do the best you can to make him comfortable. The incantation for bandages is _ferula_.'

Shooting one last glance at Beth's unmoving form, Harry turned to Remus. His former teacher was still slumped against the tree trunk, and his eyes were closed.

'How d'you feel?' Harry asked softly. 'No, never mind. Don't answer that,' he added as an afterthought, not realising how stupid the question sounded until he voiced it.

Remus seemed to read his thoughts because he forced a smile, although it came out more like a grimace. 'I'll live,' he said before lapsing into silence again.

Harry tore his pant leg open to better examine the injury. 'It looks pretty deep,' he said to Sirius,' and it's bleeding a lot.'

'There isn't much we can do out here,' replied Sirius seriously, 'Just bandage it; that'll keep it clean and limit blood loss until we get to a Healer.'

Turning back to the task at hand, Harry waved his wand and said, 'Ferula'. He felt immense relief when the spell worked perfectly; he had been slightly worried he might blow Remus' head off. Working as quickly as his irritated burns would permit, Harry began to wrap Remus' injury. He couldn't suppress a flinch every time Remus let slip a gasp or groan.

When he was about halfway through, Harry stopped, unable to bear it any longer.

'Keep going, Harry,' Remus said in a tight voice. 'You're doing brilliantly.'

At last Harry finished and he peered anxiously at Remus' pale and strained face. 'D'you need to lie down?' he asked cautiously.

Remus waved a hand dismissively. 'Go… see if… Sirius needs… help.'

Harry scrambled back over to Beth's side. 'Is she okay?' he asked Sirius anxiously.

Before Sirius could answer, Beth groaned and opened her eyes. She was still pale and her face glistened with perspiration. Her eyes went wide and her hand instantly went to her side, and she pushed feebly at Sirius' hands. 'St-stop,' she begged weakly. 'Hurts.'

Sirius kept up the pressure. 'I'm sorry, Beth, I can't. You're bleeding bad,' he told her, his voice not quite steady.

Beth lay still, her breathing laboured. Tears of pain streamed down her face. 'Harry?' she whispered. 'Where's… Harry?'

Harry suddenly found he couldn't speak past the lump in his throat. Here she was bleeding to death in the middle of an enormous forest, and he was still her first concern.

'Harry's safe, Beth. He's right here,' Sirius reassured her.

'Good,' she breathed. Her eyes fell closed.

'Beth?' said Harry, finally finding his voice. 'Beth?' he repeated, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She didn't respond.

'She's fainted,' said Sirius bracingly. 'Well, I can't hold these bandages forever. I'll need you to help me tie them in place. Could you conjure some more? I'll lift her up a bit so we can wrap them around her.' Moving slowly and carefully, Sirius eased Beth's head and shoulders onto his lap. 'There, that will have to do; I don't dare move her any more.'

Harry worked in silence. It wasn't until he had finished that he asked the questions that had been threatening to burst out of him since they had arrived at the forest. 'Sirius, who were those people that attacked us? How did they find us? What –?'

'Whoa, slow down,' said Sirius, using a spare bandage to wipe the blood off his hands. 'I'm afraid I don't know much more than you. Something I do know is that those people were Death Eaters – Voldemort's followers,' he added at Harry's blank look.

'But he's gone!' said Harry, frowning. 'Who could they be working for?'

Sirius shrugged. 'Themselves probably. Or maybe this is some half-baked idea to honour their "dead" master. Who knows?'

Another fifteen minutes had passed according to Harry's watch. Still no one had come. He tried not to think about the horrors that lived in the forest… He doubted that giant spiders were the worst creatures the forest held… His mind wandered to Hagrid's three-headed dog. Where did Fluffy live now, he wondered…

'D'you reckon we should move on?' he asked Sirius, and Harry could tell by the look on Sirius' face that he was thinking the same.

'I don't know,' said Sirius, looking down at Beth. She still looked pale and clammy. The prospect of moving her was daunting. With Sirius the only uninjured one in their party, Harry didn't like their options.

'We'll have to stay here,' said Sirius finally. 'Beth would never make it.'

Harry's head shot up. 'What? You think she –'

'No,' said Sirius at once. 'I just meant that she'd start bleeding again if we tried to carry her all that way. We couldn't manage both her and Remus, and this forest is much too dangerous send someone for help. We'll just have to wait until someone sees Remus' Patronus.'

There was a brief silence. Harry surreptitiously put two fingers to Beth's wrist; he could feel a dull throbbing beneath her skin.

'She'll be all right, Harry,' said Sirius softly.

'All right?' Harry repeated incredulously. 'She's bleeding to death, Sirius! How is that all right? It's my fault she's involved in this…'

'Harry, stop,' said Sirius firmly. 'The attack was probably nothing to do with you. They could have just as easily been after me.'

Harry shook his head stubbornly. 'You said they were _Voldemort's_ Death Eaters. Everyone knows he wants me dead! Who's to say that they weren't trying to kidnap –'

'We don't, not for sure,' Sirius said, watching him closely. 'But there is nothing to be gained by beating yourself up about it. Now, listen,' he went on, 'Beth's fought a mass-murder and Death Eaters with nothing but a couple saucepans and a bowlful of oranges. I can't imagine her giving up easily, can you?'

Harry managed a small smile. 'Yeah, I guess… ' He stared wordlessly at Beth for several long minutes. Her pulse beat weakly under his fingertips. He could see her chest slowly rising and falling. He tried not to look at the bandages around her midriff, which were beginning to darken again. 'Sirius, I… I don't suppose you've heard how she anonymously mailed a box of live grasshoppers to Uncle Vernon?'

Sirius gave a low chuckle. 'What motivated her to do that?'

Harry thought about the long days during the summer before second year that he'd spent locked in his room without food. 'No idea,' he lied. 'I suppose Beth thought he deserved it though.'

Sirius didn't look convinced. 'Harry –'

'Remus! Remus, are you all right?

Dumbledore was striding toward them down the barely discernible path, Hagrid puffing along beside him. Harry caught a glimpse of a moon-bright, silvery wolf fade into the darkness. Dumbledore and Hagrid stopped short as they took in the scene. For a moment there was silence as they stared at Harry, Beth, Sirius and Remus sprawled in various positions on the ground, covered in dirt and sweat and blood. Then Dumbledore swept forward and immediately took charge. He conjured a stretcher and helped Sirius lift the limp form of Beth onto it. Hagrid helped a semi-conscious Remus to his feet and half carried him the short distance to where Dumbledore was pulling two quills from his robe pocket.

'These Portkeys will take us to the Hospital Wing. Sirius, take Harry and the young woman. The rest of us will be along shortly.'

Sirius tightly grasped the stretcher with one hand and placed the other on the Portkey. Harry did the same. He immediately felt the uncomfortable sensation of a hook being jerked around his midriff; the forest, Dumbledore, Remus and Hagrid vanished in a whirlwind of colour and sound…


	13. Moving Forward

**Chapter 13: Moving Forward**

Sirius felt his knees buckle when his feet hit the ground, but managed to keep his balance. Harry was not so fortunate. He now clambered to his feet, looking thoroughly shocked at their manner of transport. Obviously he hadn't expected to suddenly be roughly deposited in a completely different location.

'Lay her on the bed, Mr. Black,' said a voice behind him.

Sirius glanced up to see Madam Pomfrey standing beside a bed. The sheets were already pulled back, indicating that she had been told to expect them – that and the fact that she hadn't tried to hex him yet.

'Come on, quickly, now!'

They soon had Beth settled. The matron pulled screens around the bed, leaving Sirius and Harry standing in the aisle. They could hear her muttering to herself as they sank heavily into a pair of chairs against the wall.

The next hour dragged on. Dumbledore arrived via Portkey and together he and Sirius helped a pale Remus into a bed. Madam Pomfrey was still working furiously to heal Beth so he had to make do with a Pain Reliever until she was stabilised. Dumbledore briefly questioned them about the night's events before leaving to collect some more potions for Madam Pomfrey.

The entire time, Harry was on edge; he sat rigidly in his chair, leaping to his feet every time Beth cried out. He seemed so agitated that Sirius half-heartedly suggested they walk around the castle, thinking it might distract him. But after receiving a rather disgusted glare from Harry he kept silent, and they both stared out the window, watching the last rays of sun disappear beyond the horizon.

Madam Pomfrey ducked out from behind the screens a few times to summon potions and the like but she didn't speak to them, nor did she meet their eyes. Dumbledore returned with Snape at his side, their arms laden with goblets and jars of many brightly coloured substances, and disappeared behind the curtains with Madam Pomfrey. Sirius could hear them conversing in low voices. Beside him, Harry was tapping the tip of his fingers against his knees, eyes flickering around the room only to come back to rest on the stark white curtains before them.

'Harry,' said Sirius softly, in a voice slightly hoarse from disuse, 'Just remember that we did our best to help her. And Madam Pomfrey is an excellent Healer. Beth has got the highest possible chance.'

Harry looked at him but didn't speak, hearing the unspoken message. He flinched and exhaled shakily as Beth cried out again. Sirius reached out to grip his shoulder.

It seemed like hours had passed when Snape emerged from behind the screen to dump an armful of empty goblets on a vacant bed. Unable to take it any longer, Harry grabbed his wrist as he made to leave the room.

'Is she okay?' he demanded. 'Tell me!'

Wrenching his arm out of Harry's grip, Snape peered down his nose at him. 'Miss Richman is dead –'

'NO!'

Harry's cry of grief tore at Sirius insides, expressing agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause. He himself was still trying to comprehend the words… The small, vibrant young woman who'd awakened his heart in the few days he'd known her… gone…

'Let me finish, Potter!' snapped Snape. 'The servants of the Dark Lord have been spying on her for months. They know what she is so she can't go back. As of now, she is dead to the Muggle world. We will explain her absence by saying she was killed by a gas explosion in her home. Be sure to tell her not to wander to the dungeons while she's here. I have no wish to encounter her again.'

With that, Snape turned on his heel and stormed out the Hospital Wing.

Harry was trembling from head to foot. 'W-what?' he said shakily, not quite grasping Snape's words. 'I don't…'

'What he means to say is Miss Richman will make a full recovery,' said Madam Pomfrey as she and Dumbledore came out from behind the curtains. 'Oh, Albus, look at Potter! He's shaking! You really should have told them yourself. Severus can be terribly insensitive at times.' She took Harry by the arm and led him toward the curtained area. 'She's just fine, dear. Come see for yourself,' she said, her manner suddenly very motherly.

Sirius followed Madam Pomfrey and Harry to the bed. Beth was again unconscious but her face had a little more colour to it. She was wearing a white hospital gown, and light blankets were pulled up almost to her chin. Her ebony hair, now free of its long plait, lay tousled on her pillow.

Harry reached out with unsteady hands to free a twig that had become entangled with her hair. His eyes didn't leave Beth as Sirius came to stand beside him, nor when the matron left to see to Remus. They stood there for several minutes until Sirius broke the silence.

'She means a lot to you, doesn't she,' he said quietly, watching Harry's face.

'Yeah,' said Harry huskily, 'she looks out for me, keeps me out of trouble.'

Sirius nodded slowly. 'It sounds like trouble follows you around on a regular basis, and not just at Hogwarts.'

Harry glanced at him then, his expression guarded. 'What d'you mean?'

'I'm not stupid, Harry. I know something is going on, and since Beth refused point blank to tell me, it's up to you.'

'Yeah, she can be pretty stubborn,' said Harry with a small smile.

But Sirius would not be distracted. 'Harry, I want to help you. I want to keep you safe.'

'It's not as easy as that,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'You don't know what you're talking about.'

'Oh, I think I know enough to make a pretty good guess,' said Sirius. 'Remember back when I told you how I knew you were trapped in the burning house? Well, I had a vision where I saw you trying to get yourself free from a rope tied to the bedpost. I really doubt you tied yourself up, so that leaves –'

'Sirius, stop,' said Harry shortly, turning back to Beth. 'You're jumping to conclusions. It was just my cousin's idea of a prank.'

'So you're saying that your cousin is the reason you stay at Beth's so much?' said Sirius, raising an eyebrow.

'No-o,' said Harry, drawing out the word, sounding irritated. 'I stay at Beth's because she's my friend and I enjoy her company. Happy?'

'Not really.'

Madam Pomfrey returned, effectively halting the conversation.

'Potter, here's another jar of Burn Balm for your injuries. I assume the other lot is back at Little Whinging? No, no, don't apologise. I daresay you had many more important things on your mind. Oh, and the headmaster has given you permission to stay here over the summer. He's arranging rooms for you now. Miss Richman will be given her own quarters once she's discharged.

'When will that be?' asked Sirius.

'Tomorrow should be fine,' said a quiet voice that didn't belong to the matron.

Sirius, Harry and Madam Pomfrey turned as one toward the bed, from where the voice had come. Beth was blinking wearily up at them, wincing as she shifted her weight.

'Beth!' exclaimed Harry, his voice full of relief as he moved still closer to the bed; he looked in danger of becoming a permanent part of the fixture. Sirius himself felt a wave of light-headedness wash over him; he surreptitiously leaned against the wall.

'Tomorrow?' Madam Pomfrey repeated, shocked. 'Oh, no, no, no, no! That is much too soon. You need at least a week of bed rest, if not two.'

'Bed rest? No thanks,' said Beth, slowly pushing herself up on her pillows. 'Ow! Ooh, that hurts!' she gasped, her face screwing up in pain as she clutched her side.

Madam Pomfrey tutted at her. 'Which is exactly why I recommended bed rest. You need time to recover. Goodness, girl! Do you think you're made of stone? Now, don't you dare strain your wound, I won't have you messing up my hard work.'

Beth took a few steadying breaths before looking back up at them. 'How many stitches did I get?' she asked with interest. Harry laughed and shook his head in amusement.

Sirius was momentarily taken aback at the apparent speed of Beth's recovery, but then he looked at her more closely; her face was pale and she seemed to be clenching her hands into fists under the sheets. His eyes met hers briefly and he understood. She was trying to hide her pain from Harry.

Madam Pomfrey put a hand to her heart, looking shocked. 'Stitches?' she said faintly, sitting down on the bedside chair with a muffled plop. 'Oh my word. Oh, dear, dear me.'

'Oh, that bad, huh?' asked Beth, making a face.

'Beth, we – that is, magical folk – don't use stitches to close wounds,' explained Sirius. 'We use potions and spells and such.'

Beth nodded slowly. Sirius noticed her eyes were glassy with pain. 'That makes sense,' she said softly. 'I seem in pretty good shape all things considered… Where's Remus? Is he all right?'

'He'll live,' said Madam Pomfrey, summoning a potion. 'Here, drink this. It's a Blood Replenisher. You'll need to take one hourly for the rest of the day.'

Beth took the goblet, eying the yellow-brown contents critically. 'I don't suppose magical medicines taste any better than Muggle ones?'

Harry grinned. 'Be brave, Beth.'

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, sunlight was streaming through the dormitory window. As he slipped into the bathroom to shower and dress he noticed that Sirius' bed was empty. In the absence of any students, the two of them had been offered the use of the fourth year boys' dormitories for the rest of the summer. Beth would move into one of the girls' dorms – at least, she would if Madam Pomfrey ever let her out of the Hospital Wing. When Harry had left the hospital wing the night before, Beth was still trying to convince the matron that two weeks of bed rest was a vast overreaction. Harry privately thought that Madam Pomfrey had met her match with Beth. An excellent nurse Beth may be, but when it came to her own health, she was inclined to rush her recovery.

Harry made his way down the long, winding staircases to the hospital wing, half expecting to run into a very harassed matron on the brink of tearing her hair out. It came as a great surprise, therefore, to hear laughter ringing out from the other side of the wooden double doors. Feeling more than a little confused, he stuck his head around inside.

Beth was lying flat on her back, yet seemed to be in the midst of recounting a story to a captive audience. Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus and Madam Pomfrey didn't look up as Harry entered.

'… so I told the kid that the medicine gave people super powers, thinking that he'd drink it for sure. But he just looked at me, all smiles, and said, "Why, thankee, miss, but I reckon it jest wouldn't be right of me ter scarf down the whole thing. Me Mam taught me manners, she did. But I'd be mighty proud if you'd share it with me."

'The next thing I knew, he'd emptied the entire cup in my lap! "There yer are, miss!" he said to me, grinning hugely. "D'you reckon you'll have them super powers now?" '

The others laughed at Beth's exaggerated accent; Harry knew from firsthand experience that she was an excellent storyteller. He supposed it was one of the reasons she had been so popular on the children's ward at Little Whinging Hospital.

'Oh, the little rascal!' chuckled Madam Pomfrey, wiping away a tear of laughter. 'Dear me, he must have kept you busy!'

Beth grinned. 'He sure did, but I must admit I missed him when he went home. He kept life interesting.'

She turned her head over on the pillow when she saw him approaching. 'Harry!' she said, her eyes lighting up. 'There you are! I was starting to think you were going to sleep all day. Come and join the party.' She patted the bed beside her.

Harry sat down on the bed carefully. 'What happened to resting?' he asked with a cautious glance at Madam Pomfrey.

The matron shook her head, fixing Beth with a very stern look. 'We've discussed that at great length to no avail.'

'I am resting!' said Beth in mild indignation. 'Look, I'm lying down and I haven't tried to do a runner yet. Personally, I think I'm behaving quite nicely.'

Dumbledore chuckled merrily. 'Well, now that Harry's here, there are a few things I'd like to discuss. Miss Richman, I do hope that you'll put off 'doing a runner' and stay with us for a few minutes.'

'I'll certainly try, sir,' said Beth cheerfully. Harry privately felt that she didn't look capable of getting far, but he knew it was no good telling Beth this. She was of the opinion that if she ignored an illness it would go away. Harry hoped she had enough sense to treat this injury with more care than she treated a simple case of the sniffles.

The matron sent Beth another irritated look before bustling back to her office. Remus also stood up to excuse himself, but Beth raised her hand.

'Feel free to stay and hear the explanation, Remus,' she offered, guessing the topic about to be discussed. 'You've more than earned that right.'

Remus smiled his thanks as he sat back down beside Sirius.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'Remus and Sirius have described your gift to me based on what you have shared with them. I'm afraid there is little known to wizards. The only written accounts are over a hundred years old; they tell of mythical beings able to look into a man's eyes and know his every thought and memory, and to make him ashamed of his wrongdoings. In all the records, those with the gift are women, which fits with the number of witch-burnings being so much higher than wizards.'

Beth was no longer smiling. 'But if it's thought to be a myth, why all the witch-burnings?'

'Alas, humans always feel the need to explain the mysterious unknown with something familiar, like the myths and legends we've heard since childhood. In ancient times these 'Endowed Ones' were often called upon to determine the guilt or innocence of suspected criminals. They were greatly valued by those in authority, but less so by common folk. It seems that over time gossip merged into legend, and legend into solid fact, until everyone had convinced themselves that the Endowed Ones were mixed up in all sorts of evil sorcery. I believe that was when witch-burnings became popular.'

'The way they describe it makes it sound a bit… dark,' said Beth uncertainly.

'It is not our abilities that show what we truly are, but our choices,' said Harry to Beth, echoing Dumbledore's words from his second year.

The headmaster nodded at him approvingly. He looked back at Beth. 'I don't think you have reason to worry. As I said, most accounts are over a hundred years old so there's very little hard evidence and a lot of anecdotal hysteria involved. They were, after all, written from the "victims" perspective.'

Here Dumbledore paused, watching her carefully. 'In all the reports, the women possessed considerable magical ability in addition to the gift of insight,' he said calmly, eyes twinkling.

Her own mouth gaping open, Beth glanced sideways at Harry to gauge his reaction. He looked thoroughly taken aback, but as she watched, a thoughtful expression overtook his features.

'So you think Beth could do magic? But if she's a witch, why didn't she go to Hogwarts?' he asked, putting her own thoughts into words.

Dumbledore hesitated. 'It's possible that she was simply overlooked…'

' – but not likely,' Beth finished for him.

'No, not likely at all.'

'How old were you when this gift first emerged?' Remus asked curiously.

Beth cocked her head to one side, considering. 'I can't really remember; in my mid-teens, I think.'

'So when she was eleven, the system didn't register her as being a witch,' guessed Sirius, but Remus shook his head.

'You can't just suddenly become a witch or wizard, you have to be born one,' he said. 'Is anyone in your family magical?' This question was aimed at Beth.

'Not that I know of,' she answered, her eyes beginning to droop. 'I didn't have a clue that magic existed until Harry got his letter. And I don't recall displaying any accidental magic either. It is possible, I suppose, but I have no way of knowing for sure. I never knew my grandparents, and my parents died years ago.'

Dumbledore was silent for a moment as he considered her words. 'There are simple tests that will tell us one way or the other. And I have a friend who is rather skilled at tracing family trees. Once Madam Pomfrey releases you we can get started.'

'As far as she's concerned, that day may not come for a good six months,' said Beth wryly.


	14. Learning

**Chapter 14: Learning**

As it turned out, Madam Pomfrey did not keep Beth in the hospital wing for six months. After just a week of bedrest (during which Beth used every opportunity to comment on how nice it would be to get out of bed), the matron reluctantly gave her permission to meet with Dumbledore, although it was not without conditions. Beth was strictly banned from attempting any stairs, and she had to return for a check-up every evening.

Clad in azure-blue robes borrowed from Madam Pomfrey, Beth stood in the hospital wing waiting for Madam Pomfrey to finish repeating her instructions for the third time. Harry noticed that Beth was subtly edging closer to the door – a difficult feat at the best of times, made more challenging by the uneven gait brought on by her injury.

'You've done a brilliant job of patching me up, Poppy. I feel much better,' Beth said patiently. She turned to Harry. 'You know, Harry, I think I'll take you up on your offer to teach me to fly. If I get on the broom and jump out the window, I won't break my promise to not use the stairs.'

'O-out the –' Madam Pomfrey spluttered. She stopped as Beth grinned broadly. 'Oh, you – get out of here!' She shooed them out the door and snapped it shut behind them, but not before Harry caught sight of her trying to hide a smile behind her hand.

The meeting with Dumbledore would take place in the empty Charms classroom, as it was on the same floor as the hospital wing. Harry had no doubt that the matron was behind this change in venue. He'd initially thought this was a bit over the top, but now as he watched Beth limp slowly along the corridor, Harry was glad for the matron's strict guidelines. Beth may claim that she was fine, but he was inclined to doubt her assessment of her own health.

The past few days had been some of the best of Harry's life. If he had thought he was glad to be back at Hogwarts, it was nothing to how Sirius felt. The day after they had arrived, Sirius had enthusiastically offered to show Harry some of the Marauder's old haunts. Since then, they had taken to spending every afternoon roaming the grounds, visiting Hagrid or discussing plans to get Snape sacked, which were fun to talk about even if they couldn't actually carry them out.

'… and to think, after all these years, I might be able to do magic after all! I could have turned Dave into a lizard. All those missed opportunities,' Beth was saying wistfully. Harry quickly pulled himself back to the present.

'You weren't listening were you?' said Beth, looking amused.

'Sorry, I was thinking.'

'Care to share those thoughts?' Beth asked.

Harry nodded. 'I was just thinking about Sirius. It's been great getting to know him.'

'Yes, it has,' agreed Beth a little too fervently. 'Uh, it's been… good for you to have a male role model,' she added hastily.

Harry looked at her oddly. 'Right.'

They were at the classroom door now.

'Shall we go in?' said Beth, fumbling with the door handle as she pulled it open.

* * *

Dumbledore was already there waiting for them. Two people that Beth didn't recognize were with him. One was an old man with wide, pale eyes that shone like moons; the other was a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face, and Beth had a fleeting urge to back right out of the room. More to avoid the woman's severe stare than out of actual interest, she glanced around the room; there was a group of desks pushed together, upon which perhaps a hundred narrow boxes were piled neatly. These, Beth supposed, held potential wands for her to try.

'Good morning, Beth, Harry,' said Dumbledore pleasantly. 'Thank you for coming. Madam Pomfrey has given me strict instructions not to keep you too long so let's get started.' He gestured to his companions. 'Mr. Ollivander and Professor McGonagall have kindly offered their assistance.'

Mr. Ollivander fixed his piercing gaze on Harry. 'Ah, Mr. Potter. Eleven inches long, nice and supple, holly and phoenix feather – unusual combination but I'm sure it's done you well.'

'Yes, sir, it has,' said Harry, looking nervous. Beth didn't blame him. The spindly man was creepy.

Mr. Ollivander came to stand in front of Beth, regarding her with a slight frown. 'Ah yes,' he said, rubbing his chin with two long fingers. 'You'd be Rachel's girl. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you.'

'You knew my mother?' Beth asked, surprised.

He frowned and rubbed his frail chin as he studied her with his wide silvery eyes. She wished he would blink.

'No,' he said finally. 'But I met her mother – your grandmother,' he added unnecessarily. 'She had the same habit of avoiding eye contact, I think I knew what she was even before she did – Well now, Miss Richman. Let me see.' He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. 'Please hold out your wand arm.'

Beth obediently held out her right arm, relieved that Harry had shared so many of his experiences with her. It felt good to have some small understanding of this bizarre situation.

Mr. Ollivander measured Beth from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he explained how no two wands were exactly the same. It sounded like the same speech he had given Harry several years ago.

'Right then, Miss Richman,' said Ollivander, snatching a box off the desk. 'Try this one. Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave**.'**

She took the wand and gave it a half-hearted wave. Nothing happened. Feeling rather crestfallen, Beth passed it back to Ollivander.

'Not to worry, not to worry,' he said happily, replacing the wand and selecting a second. 'Try this one.'

Not to worry, maybe this one. An hour later, Beth was thoroughly sick of that phrase. Her side was twinging and she felt slightly light-headed after standing up for so long; she wanted nothing more than to sit for a few minutes, preferably forever. After a week of nothing but rest, she had been anxious to get out of the hospital wing. Now it appeared she might have been a little too hasty.

The pile of untried wands dwindled. Ollivander gave a wave of his wand and the tried wands disappeared to be replaced with a fresh batch. His hand hovered over the new pile for several long seconds before he settled on a box about halfway down the pile. He slid it out carefully and handed Beth the wand that lay inside.

Beth was just considering hurling it across the room when she felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand and brought it swishing down through the air; a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Harry whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, 'Oh, bravo. Yes, indeed, oh, very good.'

He put Beth's wand back into its box and handed it to her, beaming widely. 'My, my,' he said, 'Tricky customers are few and far between, but I must say, I do rather enjoy a challenge.'

Dumbledore was beaming. 'Well done,' he said happily. 'Well done. I think we've firmly established that you are indeed a witch. All that remains is to test the full extent of your powers. You are, of course, above the age of the students so Hogwarts can offer a correspondence course. Unless, 'he added with a twinkle in his eye, 'you would prefer to be de-aged for the duration of your schooling?'

Beth grinned. 'I'll take the correspondence courses, thanks.'

Since the search for a wand had taken up more time than they had anticipated, Professor McGonagall suggested that they recommence the other tests at a later date.

'I for one would not like Poppy breathing down my neck,' she said crisply as she held the door open for Harry and Beth. 'She said two hours only. It would be best if you arrived back early.' Then she smiled at Beth. 'Congratulations Miss Richman, I look forward to working with you.'

* * *

Harry was thrilled; Beth was a witch! His mind was buzzing as he and Beth walked slowly along the corridor back toward the hospital wing.

'D'you think you'll have any lessons here?' he asked, voicing something that he'd been pondering for the last few minutes.

'What? Oh… I don't know yet,' said Beth softly.

Harry noticed she was breathing harder than usual. Her face shone with a layer of perspiration.

'Are you sure you're okay?' he asked, gripping her arm tightly as she stumbled.

'Fine,' she said quietly, 'just tired.' She winced and put a hand to her side.

Harry shortened his stride as Beth slowed down. They were barely making any progress now; the hospital wing was only about 10 yards away, but at that moment it might as well have been 10 miles.

'Maybe I should get someone,' said Harry nervously after a few moments of watching Beth hobble painfully along the corridor. What was going on? Beth had seemed to be well on the mend.

Beth didn't answer, but stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly.

'Beth?' Harry was starting to get scared now. 'Beth, say something!'

Beth turned her head, and he saw her face; her eyes were listless and she focused on a point slightly to his left. But this time Harry knew it wasn't simply to avoid using her Insight.

'We're almost at the hospital wing, Beth,' he said, trying to keep his voice steady. 'Come on. I'll help you.'

'No,' she whispered thickly, 'I can't –' Beth started to slide down the wall as her legs gave out, one arm wrapped protectively around her side.

Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and eased her to sit down against the wall. She followed his direction much too easily, limp as a marionette with no puppeteer. Harry pushed her into the corner, so she wouldn't hit her head on the stone if she passed out.

'I'm going to get help,' he told her. 'I'll be back in a minute, all right?' He didn't wait for a response, and in any case, she didn't look up to giving one. Harry pelted down the corridor. He was almost at the door when he heard a familiar voice.

'Where's the fire?'

Sirius was walking down an adjacent corridor, obviously on the way to the hospital wing himself. There was a fleeting moment where Harry dimly noted that Beth would have half killed Sirius had she heard him saying such a thoughtless thing in front of Harry. In the next instance he'd pulled himself back to the situation at hand.

'Beth collapsed!' he blurted out in a rush, grabbing hold of Sirius' sleeve and tugging him back down the corridor. Sirius didn't need any further urging. He was right on Harry's heels as he led the way to Beth.

'One of you tell Pomfrey to expect her patient back!' Sirius called to the portraits, all of which were peering out at them curiously, wondering what all the commotion was about.

Harry skidded around the corner and fell to his knees beside Beth. Her eyes were half-closed, and she groaned as Sirius eased his arms beneath her back and knees and lifted her into his arms.

'Easy, Beth, we'll get you some help,' Sirius murmured as he started walking. Harry ran ahead to open the hospital wing doors.

'Sirius?' Beth whispered. 'I think I'm sick.'

It was all Sirius could do not to burst out laughing. 'I think that's a fair evaluation,' he teased gently. 'I hope I'm never one of your patients if this is the state they end up in.'

' 'S'not funny,' she muttered thickly. She said no more as they entered the hospital wing, which was just as well, because Madam Pomfrey wasn't in the mood to listen.

'Two weeks of bedrest I said,' she muttered angrily as Sirius carried Beth toward her bed. 'But of course the patient always thinks they know better than their very experienced, perfectly qualified Healer – Hurry up and put her down, Black! I'd like to examine my patient sometime today. Goodness knows what she's done to herself this time… Black! Potter! Why are you still here? I just said I'm going to examine my patient. Out!'

Once again, Sirius and Harry were shuttled none too gently into the aisle as the matron wrenched the curtains closed behind them. Harry distinctly heard them tear. The sound was shortly followed by an irritated 'reparo'. This in turn was followed by some very unladylike words that Harry had never thought he'd hear from Madam Pomfrey.

Not wanting the matron to catch them standing so close to the curtain, Sirius and Harry retreated to the nearby chairs, listening to the very audible conversation between Healer and patient. Neither woman was known for being quiet and submissive.

They heard some coughing and sputtering that was clearly Beth being force-fed a potion, then Madam Pomfrey resumed her muttering.

'Right let's see how much damage you've done to yourself – Miss Richman, what is this potion doing on the cupboard?'

'Well, it's inanimate, so probably not much,' muttered Beth between coughs.

Madam Pomfrey ignored her sarcasm. 'It's a Pain Reliever. You were supposed to drink it before you left!'

'Didn't hurt much then.'

'Well, of course not, you were lying still! I prescribed the potion to control the pain that I knew would come from gallivanting around the castle!' Madam Pomfrey blustered. 'You're a nurse in the Muggle world; surely you understand the importance of taking your medicine! It's only one goblet!'

'But it's yucky,' said Beth petulantly, and Sirius let out a snort of laughter. Harry, who'd been holding his breath, let it out again. Beth would be fine.

'Well, you're going to drink it now,' Madam Pomfrey ordered Beth.

'I'm not drinking _that_! It looks like elephant dung!'

Yes, Harry thought with a smirk, Beth would be just fine.


	15. Further Developments

**Chapter 15: Further Developments**

'What I don't get,' muttered Beth as she struggled to keep a feather levitated in the air, 'is why anyone would want to make my pillow stuffing float around the room.'

'It's all about steps, Beth,' said Harry, who had his feather floating slightly above hers as if to coax it higher. 'With enough practise, you'll be able to move on to bigger, more useful things like heavy kitchen pans and furniture.'

'But wouldn't that put you out of a job?' said Beth teasingly.

Harry grinned. 'Probably, but I'll get over it – Hey!'

Sirius had chosen that moment to send his own feather zooming into Harry's, causing it to flutter dolefully to the ground.

'And Potter is DOWN!' he announced gleefully, as if commentating for a Quidditch match. 'What will this mean for Gryffindor? Do they stand a chance of winning without their scrawny little Seeker?'

Harry threw a half-empty pillow at Sirius. A large clump of feathers exploded out the end. 'Of course they do, they're Gryffindors!' he said. 'They'll pull off a win somehow.'

They were in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had ducked out to Hogsmeade to replenish her supplies so, naturally, Beth was taking the opportunity to sneak in some Charms practice. After the last escapade, Madam Pomfrey had been stricter than ever, going as far as to restrict Beth to bed for a week.

Of course, that hadn't stopped Beth from stretching the rules a bit when the matron wasn't around. Only two days into her confinement and she'd managed to sneak in enough practise to master five different spells. They had just moved on from transfiguring matchsticks to needles. It had taken several attempts for Beth to master this particular spell, and the bedside cupboard was littered with piles of silvery matchsticks and needles in varying stages of transfiguration. Several of Harry's first year books lay scattered across the bed, the opened pages showing squiggles and diagrams.

'Madam Pomfrey isn't going to be impressed when she finds out about this,' Harry said conversationally.

'She'll never know,' Beth answered distractedly, frowning as her feather dropped a few inches, wavering uncertainly.

Sirius glanced around at the feathers that were strewn across Beth's bed. The empty pillowcase lay on the floor where Harry had just tossed it. 'No, she won't,' he agreed, grinning. He gave his wand a lazy flick and about twenty feathers lifted themselves off the floor and rocketed toward Beth's.

'Sirius Black, don't you dare knock my feather down!' Beth said sternly, raising her wand just in time. 'It's all I can do to keep it up there!'

He sent her an easy grin. 'I'm helping you build your concentration. If you can keep it up now, just think how easy it'll be when you don't have feathers dive-bombing you.'

Beth shook her head at him. 'Are you aware how infuriating you can be?' she said.

He cocked his head to one side as he considered the question. 'Oh yes. But as with anything else, it's a matter of practise, and I practise constantly.'

'I'd noticed,' she muttered dryly.

'So what spell d'you want to learn next?' Harry asked, checking against the list of first year spells McGonagall had supplied them with.

'The Bat-Boogey Hex sounds intriguing,' said Beth, looking pointedly at Sirius.

He raised his eyebrows, hands outstretched in a gesture of innocence. 'What did I do?'

Beth ignored him. 'So how about it, Harry?'

'Sorry,' Harry grinned. 'It's not a part of the first year curriculum.'

Beth tugged the list out of his hands, picked up a quill from the bedside cupboard and scribbled something at the bottom. 'It is now.'

'You do realise that the Department of Education in the Ministry needs to be informed of any changes to the curriculum,' said Sirius, amused.

Beth had already gone back to concentrating on her floating feather. 'They'll be receiving my proposal shortly,' she said distractedly. 'First years should be able to protect themselves.'

Footsteps and voices brought the conversation to a screeching halt. Beth slipped her wand into her robes and lay down, giving the covers a deft flick to remove the feathers. Her abandoned feather was quickly lost amongst the thousands of others that billowed out in all directions before fluttering to the ground.

The doors to the hospital wing swung open to admit Madam Pomfrey. There was a moment of silence while she stared around in shock, and then she found her voice.

'Somebody better explain what is going on and they'd better do it quickly,' Madam Pomfrey said in a low, dangerous voice.

'Sirius and Harry were having a pillow fight,' said Beth smoothly. 'It's a shame I'm laid up in bed. I have to lie here and watch them have all the fun.'

But Madam Pomfrey's sharp eyes had noticed the silvery matchsticks still lying on the bedside cupboard.

'I'll be taking your wand off your hands for the time being,' she said, walking forward and holding out her hand.

'But I need it!' protested Beth. 'What if someone attacks me? I won't be able to defend myself!'

'I suppose you think you're harder to get past than the enchantments and defenses around the castle?' Madam Pomfrey retorted stiffly. 'Enough of this nonsense! Your wand please, Miss Richman. Don't think I haven't cottoned on to your mischief. I work with teenagers. I know every trick in the book.'

Beth's shoulders drooped in resignation and she slowly reached into her robes and pulled out the wand. It was promptly snatched away by Madam Pomfrey who slipped it into her apron pocket and stormed off in the direction of her office.

'Well, looks like the lesson's over,' said Harry, moving to put away his books.

Beth raised a hand, eyes sparkling with merriment. 'Not quite.' She reached into her robes again and pulled out a wand – her wand, Harry realised with a knowing grin.

'How'd you do that?' Sirius asked, impressed.

'Magic,' said Beth, smiling mysteriously.

'No really, how'd you do it?'

'Muggles can do a bit of magic of their own, you know,' said Beth, pleased at his reaction. 'But a good magician never reveals her tricks.'

Harry looked around the room. 'D'you reckon we should clean this up?' he asked.

'Not much point, is there,' said Sirius, grinning. 'I'm sorely tempted to begin that pillow fight that you and I were supposedly having. Wouldn't want Beth to be a liar – Oof!'

The last was drawn out of him as a pillow caught him hard in the middle. Sirius stared between Beth and Harry in surprise, trying to work out who was the culprit. But they in turn were looking at each other in confusion.

'Ah, the benefits of youth,' said Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. He tucked his wand away as he strode toward them. 'I'm afraid it's been many years since I've engaged in a pillow fight. It is, I think, one of the things I miss most from my younger days.'

'Well, you've still got it,' said Sirius, staring at the headmaster in something akin to awe.

Dumbledore chuckled at the mingled disbelief and awe on their faces. 'Yes, I like to surprise people sometimes. But that is not why I came. This is.'

He handed Beth a dull blue book with yellowed, tattered pages. The gold writing that formed the title was so faded that it was barely legible.

'_The Insighted: Fact or Fiction_?' read Beth with some difficulty. She opened the book carefully and squinted at the old fashioned cursive writing.

'_Since the dawn of time, numerous wizards have sought to obtain power over all others. Warlords and sorcerers have risen and fallen, conquered and been defeated to replaced by others more powerful than their predecessor. But there is increasing evidence of a people with power that may be greater than even these. Namely, the ability to look into another's mind and see every memory, every thought and dream, every good or evil deed, and make the victim cower under the shame of them._

'_Many scholars have put this down as a branch of Legilimency, (the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind) but this does not explain the feelings of intense remorse that victims have reported feeling. Perhaps even more strangely, others have claimed that rather than feeling ashamed, encounters with these beings have left them feeling contented and even happy. The question remains: are these beings good or evil? This author is inclined to believe that they are neither – if eyewitnesses may be believed, it seems that, just like common witches and wizards, the Insighted may choose how they will use this unique gift.'_

'_Most of the Insighted or, as they are also known, Endowed Ones, prefer to keep their gift a secret, but some do not even know that this gift is theirs. A fellow colleague in this area, Professor A. J. Dartweller, who has dedicated most of his life to researching this phenomenon, put forward the theory that the gift is hereditary, yet does not appear in the next generation until the former has died…'_

Beth looked up at Dumbledore, who was watching her expectantly.

'The day after your arrival, you told us that the gift emerged during your teen years,' he said. 'Would you say this occurred around the time you lost your parents?'

'Yeah… I guess it could have been,' said Beth, thinking back. 'I can't be certain… I don't remember much from then.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Understandable.'

'Wait a moment… I think… yes, I remember something… The first time I did the insight thing… I – I did it on Dave, after the funeral,' she said softly. Her eyes became stricken. 'Of course! It all adds up,' she said, seemingly to herself. 'That must be why he's tried to avoid me ever since. He's afraid of me…'

Remembering she had an audience, Beth straightened determinedly. 'Is there anything else you'd like to know, sir?'

Dumbledore gave her a searching look before speaking. 'Yes. Do you recall any family members displaying signs of magic? Particularly the women.'

'You think I inherited this gift from my mother?' asked Beth doubtfully.

Dumbledore nodded again. 'It is certainly something to consider. After all, the author of this book and Professor Dartweller share the belief that this gift is passed down through the generations. The idea could have merit.'

'Or they could both be crackpots,' Sirius offered.

'A possibility,' conceded Dumbledore, 'but the information in the first few paragraphs matches with what other scholars have written. I feel certain that these wizards were on the right track, even if they didn't have all the facts.'

'It would certainly be a relief if they were right about the powers being able to be used for good,' said Beth, her voice tight with nervousness.

Dumbledore looked her directly in the eye. 'Miss Richman, I can think of no better person to weld this remarkable gift than you. It is rare indeed for some one to reach out to those whom the world views as outcasts. And you have done this, not once, but three times. An orphan, a convicted mass murderer, a werewolf – befriending these people is a significant thing indeed.'

Beth didn't know quite what to say to this so she said nothing. Sensing her discomfort, Dumbledore changed the subject.

'Returning to our previous topic, I wonder if I might have your permission to look up your family in the Ministry records. It would enable us to determine whether any were magical. I'd just require their names and dates of birth.'

'Yes, of course, go ahead,' said Beth, flicking a stray feather off her blankets and watching it flutter to the floor to rest amidst thousands of its kind.

'In the meantime,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling madly, 'it may be prudent to tidy up all these feathers. I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey is on the verge of demanding a pay rise, and I'd like to avoid that if at all possible.'


End file.
